


Cold

by MeganRosenberg



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Child Abuse, Dimension Travel, Family, Foster Care, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Sexual Assault, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2018-12-18 14:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 42,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11876130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganRosenberg/pseuds/MeganRosenberg
Summary: Rick A7Ω-89 has no family of his own. He dedicates his life to science and has all but given up on relationships with other people. Morty 7E-199 lives with an abusive foster family and wants nothing more in life than someone who honestly loves and cares about him. When the two meet, Morty discovers something in Rick he had thought he'd lost forever long ago, while Rick discovers something in Morty he never knew he needed or wanted.





	1. Chapter 1

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Chapter 1

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Rick Sanchez A7Ω-89 went a very long time without a Morty. In fact, he lived most of his life without ever knowing a Morty was even a thing other Ricks had. Though he was every bit as adventurous and intelligent as any other Rick, he generally kept to himself and never paid attention to what other Ricks were up to. He'd received invitations to meet with and possibly join an organization called "The Council of Ricks," but had always ignored the invites, feeling he could barely stand being around himself, let alone infinite other versions of himself who would be practically the same person as him, only not as good.

It wasn't until a particular quest of his continued to fail time after time that he decided upon questioning Ricks from other dimensions to see if their methods might by some miracle be an improvement of his own. If The Council of Ricks really had that many versions of himself meeting up, Rick A7Ω-89 could surely find one who'd succeeded where he failed and figure out once and for all what he'd been doing wrong.

The minute he set foot inside the council, however, Rick felt immediately creeped out and confused. It was bad enough to see dozens of Ricks who looked and dressed exactly like him, but stranger yet, at least eighty percent of them seemed to have been accompanied by different versions of the same young boy - a boy Rick had never seen before in his life.

As Rick walked cautiously across a large space filled with Ricks talking to each other, with most of their young companions looking around nervously, he frowned and furrowed his brow. Every version of this boy seemed uncertain about being here. Many of them looked scared of literally everything - the location itself, the other Ricks, the other versions of the boy, even sometimes their own Rick.

Rick stared down at one of them as he walked slowly past the kid. The boy stared back with wide eyes, shrinking down slightly against the Rick he'd seemingly come here with. Shaking his head, Rick looked away and continued walking. What the hell was this? Who was this kid? If almost every single Rick was traveling with different versions of the same kid, shouldn't it have been someone Rick AΩ7-89 actually knew a version of from his own dimension?

"Aww, man," an excited version of Rick's voice rang out from several yards ahead as a group of three Ricks stood talking with their little brown-haired side-kicks standing silently next to them, looking back and forth between all of the Ricks surrounding them. "I got some of that crystallized electric powder Vlymnaarx-9 the other day. Been powering the whole thing I've got goin' on the garage for the past week and I only have used like half a fucking ounce."

Rick AΩ7-89's ears perked up. Crystallized electric powder was the exact substance he had just failed to obtain. That was the reason he was here - to ask these guys if they'd been able to obtain it, and if so, find out how they did it.

As he stepped up toward the other Ricks, he noticed the second one high-five the first. "Alright! That shit is lit as fuck, man! I got like seven fucking gallons of it this weekend."

"I only got like twenty ounces," the third Rick grumbled. "Thanks to my Morty being an insufferable little dipshit and nearly getting himself killed at the worst possible moment." His voice raised to an actual shout at the end of his sentence as he glared down at the boy next to him and the boy frowned and looked down at his feet.

"Hey," Rick AΩ7-89 cut in as he approached the group. "You guys are talking about C.E.P... How did you manage to get it? Vlymnaarx-9 in my dimension is so heavily policed considering it's virtually uninhabited. Every time I set foot on that planet, I've got authorities on my ass in less than two minutes."

One of the Ricks frowned as he looked over, craning his neck as though trying to look around Rick AΩ7-89. "Where's your Morty?" He frowned.

Rick AΩ7-89 stared back. "My what?"

"Your Morty... Didn't get him killed, did you?" The other Rick frowned and the boy next to him stared up with his mouth slightly open and his brows furrowed.

Rick AΩ7-89 shook his head. Was that the kid's name? At least the boy had a name... Rick was still worried that perhaps these kids weren't all here willingly and were being treated more as props or servants than people. They all seemed so jumpy and nervous. "I don't have a Morty... I, uh..." Rick AΩ7-89 started. "I don't even know who Morty is... I've never been here before..."

All three of the Ricks and Mortys gasped and stared at him.

"What happened to his Morty?" one of the Mortys whispered to another.

"He doesn't even know him..." the third Morty whispered. "He never had a Morty..."

"Maybe he's lying..." the second one spoke.

"Shut up down there," one of the Ricks ordered as he glared down at the kid. "Come talk with me, Rick," he suggested as he put his hand on Rick's shoulder and led him away. "I'm Rick T-256," he offered, holding his hand out.

"AΩ7-89," Rick introduced himself back, shaking T-256's hand. "So what the hell is all this? You guys aren't perverts, are you?" He grimaced. Why would all the other Ricks want to travel with a young boy like this? The kid didn't even look smart or at all useful - seemed like a liability and nothing else... unless they were up to something gross...

T-256 laughed. "No... We're not perverts... Morty's your grandson, Rick. Don't you have a daughter? Beth? I hardly ever hear of a Rick without a Morty... I mean, you're not the first, but it's rare, and the ones who don't have a Morty usually at least know who the kid is... Did you step out of Beth's life before he was even born and never look back? Lots of Ricks don't have a Summer, but there's usually a Morty at least, assuming Beth and Jerry stayed together after the abortion."

Rick AΩ7-89 stared back at this guy with his mouth hanging open in shock. It took a lot to shock Rick, really, but that was a lot of information all at once. His version of Beth had died as a teenager. She had been dating a boy named Jerry, but she died before that relationship was ever anything serious. Rick hadn't ever thought much about what could have been... He assumed every version of his daughter would have died in the same unfortunate accident as his Beth. He never thought about checking out other dimensions and seeing if other Beths might still be around. They wouldn't be his Beth, so he never thought it mattered... And he never considered that versions of her who lived would have gone on to have children, and that Rick could have had grandchildren.

He looked back around the room at all the little Mortys standing next to their grandfathers. He felt a sinking, longing feeling in his chest as he observed them. He could see a hint of Beth in the boy's features - nothing striking or overly obvious, but just something small he couldn't quite put his finger on. This child was his daughter's... Not the version of her he knew, but many other versions of the same woman. This boy was something Rick could have had if things had been different, if Beth hadn't gone on Spring Break with her friends, hadn't gone into the ocean when the waves were too strong, and hadn't been pulled under for too long. And apparently some versions of Rick had a grand-daughter too, though he noticed none of them had brought her here.

Rick wasn't one to really get hung up on family, and he really didn't know this boy or the girl the other Rick mentioned. They really didn't matter to him... Neither did all the versions of Beth that were apparently still out there. None of them were his. He'd never met Morty or Summer - couldn't miss them because he never knew them... And even Beth, who he did know and miss, wasn't the same Beth in these other dimensions. She'd led a different life, had teenaged children, and had grown up with different versions of Rick, who probably raised her differently on small levels. None of them would be the Beth he knew and loved...

Even so, he felt kind of cheated being all on his own when he saw how things had turned out in other dimensions. These Ricks had a grandson. Some had a granddaughter, apparently... and they had their daughter still.

"Rick..." T-256's voice brought him out of his thoughts. "You stoned or something?"

Rick AΩ7-89 blinked and shook his head. "No... I just... My Beth died... She didn't get married or have kids. I just - Morty doesn't exist in my dimension. Beth never grew to adulthood. Never had kids. I had no idea other Ricks had grandchildren... I never knew..."

"Oh... Well, see? There's your problem with harvesting that C.E.P. then. That's why you keep getting found out," T-256 went on. "You've got to bring your Morty with you so you don't get caught. We're not just traveling with him for company, Rick. He's dumb as hell, annoying as hell, gets himself into trouble every other god-damned minute... But his brain waves sort of mask ours so we can't be tracked. Those Vlymnaarx-9 police keep finding you because your brain waves are too strong and they can pick 'em up. Morty's would kind of balance that out."

Rick AΩ7-89 frowned. "Are you shitting me? You drag this kid all over hell with you for brain waves?"

T-256 shrugged. "It works. I got a lot of C.E.P. and you don't... I got it because my Morty kept me hidden. That's what he's for."

It seemed cruel to use his grandson like that - to put him into danger when the boy would get nothing out of it, but Rick AΩ7-89 also didn't even know this kid, so what did it matter? He barely cared about anyone, ever, so why would he care about any version of this boy he had never met? If he could get a kid of his own to use as a cloaking device to further his science work, why wouldn't he?

"Are there any Mortys without Ricks that might be up for grabs?" Rick AΩ7-89 wondered. "I could certainly use one if he'll keep my brain waves cloaked and keep me from being caught. Can't exactly go back to Vlymnaarx-9 in my own dimension though. I'm very much banned, and they claim they'll vaporize me on site if I go back."

"I'll take you over to fill out a replacement Morty form," T-256 offered. "It might take a while to process though. I've only attempted to replace mine once, and waited a while, but the other one wasn't actually dead, it turns out, so I got him back and canceled the request."

Rick AΩ7-89 frowned as he followed the guy, whose Morty ran up beside him as they left the common area.

"Don't leave me again, Rick," Morty T-256 spoke in a small voice.

"I won't," Rick T-256 grumbled with a sigh and an eye roll. "Stop being so damn clingy. Here's the place. Just ask for the Replacement Morty form."

Rick AΩ7-89 nodded and walked inside a room that looked like the DMV, with several Ricks in line, leading up to a counter that another Rick sat behind. He rolled his eyes and groaned to himself. These versions of himself fucking sucked. Why did they set this council up to mimic all the worst parts of society?

He waited until he was in the front of the line and then found himself staring at a version of himself with glasses and a scowl on his face.

"Dimension?" The receptionist Rick barked.

"Uh... AΩ7-89," Rick answered. "I need a-"

"Hold on," the receptionist interrupted him as he typed something into a computer. "You're not in the system. Have you been here before?"

Rick exhaled as his shoulders slumped. "No... I just need-"

"You're going to have to fill out opening paperwork. We can't do business with Ricks who aren't on file. That's that line." He pointed toward another line of Ricks leading up to another desk with a different Rick-receptionist manning a different, yet identical computer behind it.

"Can't I just tell you whatever information you need?" Rick sighed. "I need a replacement Morty... I never got one in the first place, so... not really a replacement-"

"A Morty is a privilege, not a right," the receptionist-Rick began as though rattling off a rehearsed speech. "If you were not granted a Morty organically through life that does not mean you are entitled to one. Mortys are earned, not given. If you wish to apply for a Morty, opening paperwork must be completed first, then community service through the Council of Ricks, and then you can apply for one and one will potentially be assigned to you based on your performance."

Rick stared back. "That other Rick told me I just needed a form-"

"We've changed things recently. We're low on Mortys - a lot of Ricks happened to go on the same dipshit mission all at the same time and there were casualties... of the Morty sort."

Rick grimaced.

"You'll have to follow the procedure," the receptionist went on. "Step into the other line, please."

"Uggh... God damn it..." Rick exhaled and shook his head. "Never mind," he grumbled. That sounded like way too much work with the possibility of it all being for nothing. These versions of him sure did seem to over-complicate things. He could hardly understand how so many other dimensions' Ricks were such bureaucratic douchebags..

Why would he bother with tireless paperwork when he could just do whatever he wanted much easier and quicker? He'd just invented a pair of goggles that could see into other dimensions, and as always had access to an inter-dimensional portal gun. That's all he needed to just sort this out himself.

He'd just have to seek out a Morty on his own - one without a Rick, and then go collect the kid... No one who might disapprove would ever need to know he even did it. He'd find a Morty no one would miss... Or maybe he wouldn't even bother being that choosy. As long as the kid didn't have a version of Rick to come reclaim him, he was pretty much up for grabs. Rick knew better than anyone that the only person who could stop him was himself, so he could take any Rick-less Morty out there.

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	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

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Rick leaned back against his couch as he fiddled with the goggles he'd invented to see the various realities of other dimensions, altering their function so that dimensions that included himself or didn't include Morty would be filtered out. He'd set it up to show him the world through Morty's eyes, so he'd see where the kid was and who he was with in various different dimensions and so he could choose which version of this grandson he'd just learned about would be a good match for him.

He hadn't ever used this invention to check in on specific individuals like this. He kind of had a fear in the back of his mind of finding that all the other Ricks out there had something he didn't, and he supposed that fear had been confirmed today. Maybe he hadn't ever put serious thought into other versions of Beth having lived, but he supposed somewhere deep down in his mind, he always knew it was a possibility.

He really didn't want to deal with that. Of course he would have rather had his daughter not die, but in a way, it was easier with her gone. Meeting and growing attached to another version of her was not necessary. Now Rick had no attachment to anyone in his entire universe. No enemy had anything to hold against him - they couldn't threaten someone he cared about, because he didn't care about anyone. He could live his life, disappear for years or die, and no one would feel abandoned. He didn't have to worry much about accidentally destroying the world or the country or his house or anything like that, because no one he gave a fuck about existed. Worst case scenario, his biggest fuckup would just get himself killed, and he didn't really like himself anyway.

Without Beth or these grand kids he didn't know about until today, he had nothing to lose... And he still wouldn't. He'd find a lone Morty and use him to get the C.E.P. that all the other Ricks had gotten. Maybe he'd use the kid to complete other missions too, but that was it. He didn't need to bond with the boy or anything. He had no reason to. This kid wasn't someone Rick already knew or even a version of someone he knew. He was just some random boy. A pawn Rick could use to make his life easier. Not even his real grandson, but rather some other dumbass Rick's grandson. A Rick so worthless he couldn't even keep himself alive.

Once he'd put all the settings on his invention where he wanted them, Rick placed the goggles on his face and observed:

The dimension he was viewing now, through the eyes of a Morty, looked very much like his own. Morty looked out a bedroom window with a normal blue sky and green and brown tree branches swaying outside in the breeze. Everything looked just like the Earth Rick knew. The boy then looked down at a computer screen. He looked nervously around the room and then toward his door, before typing "sexy girl boobs" into a google image search.

Rick rolled his eyes and shook his head. That was the most innocent porn search he'd ever fucking seen. He could already tell working with this dumb little kid was going to be so annoying.

"Morty!" a familiar voice of a woman called up from somewhere downstairs.

The boy slammed his laptop closed with a gasp. "J-just a minute, Mom!" Morty stammered.

"Breakfast is ready!" the woman called back.

Rick swallowed as he put his hand up to the goggles and contemplated switching dimensions already. That was Beth's voice he'd just heard. Maybe he didn't want to see how she'd turned out. Maybe it would hurt too much to see his daughter eighteen years after he'd seen her last - eighteen years older... a mother...

Morty shoved his laptop off of his legs and climbed out of his bed, jogging downstairs and entering a dining room.

"Hey, Morty. You all ready for school?" a man's voice asked.

Morty looked toward the man. Rick had expected Jerry, but this was someone else. He looked older than Jerry should have been. "I guess," Morty's voice answered before turning toward a doorway that Beth was walking through.

Rick frowned as he watched the scene through the goggles. That was her... His little girl... All grown up, a woman now.

"I made your favorite, Paul." She smiled past Morty and toward the random man at the other end of the table.

Rick scoffed and pressed the button to switch dimensions on his goggles. He was sick of this dimension and wanted nothing to do with it. They all seemed too happy anyway. If Rick were going to steal a Morty, he might as well find one who wanted out of the life he had.

He now saw another dimension through another Morty's eyes. This one was also taking place at a breakfast table. The man, Paul wasn't there. Neither was Jerry. Just Morty, Beth, and a teenaged girl with a pink shirt and a strawberry blonde ponytail. That was probably Summer. Rick noted that she reminded him a bit of Jerry in appearance. She was staring down at a phone while Morty tried to talk to her and kept getting ignored.

He cycled through to the next dimension. In this one, Morty was on a couch watching tv next to a man whose face Rick couldn't see until the guy said something and Morty looked over at him. Rick flinched slightly when he saw who it was - an older version of the annoying kid his daughter used to date, Jerry. He never could stand that kid.

He moved on to the next reality, another fucking family meal. The sister was still staring at her phone, Beth was drinking wine while glaring across the table at Jerry, and Morty mostly just stared down at a plate with scrambled eggs and some sort of sausage on it, only occasionally glancing up at one of his family members. Jerry and Beth must have been arguing. It made Rick feel bad for the kids - especially Morty, who was clearly trying to look away, but couldn't stop glancing back and forth between his parents. Summer clearly didn't care that the adults were upset with each other. Morty clearly did.

Rick frowned. Maybe he could take this Morty... But it was highly possible he'd just caught the family at a tense moment and their lives weren't really all that bad. At least the whole family was there... Well, minus Rick of course. This version of Morty had a mother, a father, and a sister. Things could be worse.

Rick switched the goggles again. These worlds were all basically the same. Maybe with two kids instead of one, or without a father-figure or with a different father-figure, but still basically the same. Happy Morty living with his mom, maybe a sister, dad, or step-dad. Rick kind of felt bad about the possibility of swooping in and stealing any of these kids away, especially knowing that he'd be stealing the boy from his mother - thereby breaking some version of Beth's heart.

He flipped the button to the next scenario, immediately frowning when he saw that this dimension was entirely different from the others. Morty's eyes didn't look around a bright, cheerful house. He wasn't eating breakfast at a table or watching tv with his dad. He was sitting in a very small bedroom, without windows to light the space up. The bed looked pretty worn and wallpaper was peeling off the walls. Morty was staring at said wall... Just staring at it.

"Get up, fag!" A somewhat rough voice laughed from somewhere behind him as the view from Morty's eyes lurched forward slightly before the boy turned toward the sound.

In the doorway - which Rick noticed didn't have an actual door attached - stood a rather bulky boy who looked to be around seventeen or eighteen years old. He was smirking as he stared down at Morty.

"Stop it, Shawn," Morty grumbled as he reached toward the pillow he'd apparently been hit with and tossed it back.

The other boy caught it and scowled. "Don't you ever throw anything at me, you little runt. I could smother you with this if I wanted." He didn't sound like he was trying to be funny. He sounded serious.

Rick grimaced as he stared at the scene. What a little asshole. He'd fucking started it...

"Whatever, Shawn. Leave me alone." Morty scooted back on the bed and hugged his arms around his knees.

"Dad wants you to mow the lawn. Said you were supposed to do it yesterday," Shawn told him. "I'd guess you've got about ten minutes to get on it before he smacks you upside the head for being lazy again."

Sighing, Morty climbed out of the bed and made his way toward the door, staring up at Shawn who looked very tall now from Morty's perspective. "Let me through," Morty demanded.

Shawn shook his head.

Morty exhaled. "Please?"

"Just try to get through," Shawn laughed. "I won't stop you..."

Rick frowned. This other kid fucking sucked. But who was he? Did Beth have an older son in some realities? That might explain the shitty house. Maybe she'd gotten pregnant in high school and it ruined her career aspirations.

Morty finally ducked down below Shawn's arm and attempted to make it out into the hall. The other boy must have shoved him, because Rick could see through Morty's eyes that the kid stumbled against the stairs railing with a groan before quickly darting down the stairs and toward the front door.

"You mow that lawn, boy?" an angry man's voice spoke up from down the hall.

Rick could tell Morty shrunk down sightly as he turned toward the voice. The man at the end of the hall wasn't Jerry or Paul. He was a really gross looking, slightly overweight man in a stained shirt. "I'm gonna do it now..." Morty's voice was small and uncertain. He sounded scared.

"You was supposed to do it yesterday," the guy continued. "You're gonna be sleeping in the basement again if you don't get your shit together."

Rick frowned. Would any version his daughter really marry an asshole like this?

Morty scrambled toward the front door, gasping as he nearly ran into a woman who was coming in with a bag of groceries. "Out of my fucking way, Mortimer. Why are you always scrambling around like a damn rat?" she grumbled as she shoved him toward the wall.

"Sorry, Mom," Morty winced.

"I'm not your mom. Don't call me that," the woman growled, pushing past him and walking further into the house.

Morty exhaled and looked down at the floor as he made his way out of the house.

Rick swallowed as he pulled the goggles away from his eyes and put them down on the cushion next to him. That seemed like a good candidate to be his 'replacement Morty.' The kid was living with the biggest assholes on Earth. Maybe a foster family or something... because that woman he'd run into was certainly not Rick's daughter.

So that settled it. That was his new Morty. Morty 7E-199. He just needed to make sure he got the dimension right, figure out the best time and place to retrieve the boy, and decide what to say to convince him to come back with him. He really didn't need to convince him of course - he could make Morty come back with him... but he supposed it would be easier on them both if Morty was there willingly.

He supposed he should get all of his shit together first - decide what adventures he needed to go on and have them mapped out prior to retrieving this kid. Make sure all of his necessary inventions were in working order... Maybe he'd check in on the kid periodically and just let him live his life for a couple more days until Rick needed him. His family sucked, but he didn't seem to be in any real danger...

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	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

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Morty wiped sweat off of his brow as he finished mowing the lawn with a little push mower his foster-dad had recently purchased from a family friend. The thing was really difficult to push and always spit grass up on his legs, but he had to mow, or face the consequences, which would be anger, yelling, cold temperatures, solitude, and sometimes violence. He'd rather get grass stains on his pants than suffer though his foster-father's disappointment and subsequent overreaction.

He stowed the mower in the tool shed by the garage and then made his way back up toward the front of the house. He needed to get to school pretty soon or else he was going to get detention for being late again.

As Morty reached the sidewalk leading up to the front door, he saw Shawn, his foster brother, throwing his school books into the passenger side seat of his car. The older boy usually drove Morty to school too, since Shawn was a senior and had a license and Morty was a freshman and did not. Morty's foster-sibling often tried to leave without Morty when he could, which the younger boy didn't mind so much when he wasn't already running late. Morty would often rather walk than be in Shawn's presence, but he didn't have time today.

"Wait up, Shawn," Morty called out to him, hoping to not be left behind. Shawn wasn't always patient, and often seemed to sneak off very deliberately before Morty could reach the car, especially when something or another kept Morty at home longer than expected and a ride was the only thing that would keep the boy from being late to school. Shawn seemed to like leaving the younger boy behind and delighting in the detentions Morty would be punished with for being late to class so many times.

"Hurry it up." Shawn glared back at him as he climbed into the driver's seat. "You've got thirty seconds."

Morty grimaced. "Just let me get my books. Hang on." He nervously darted into the house and ran up to his room, quickly grabbing his books up off the floor and running back downstairs. Fortunately, Shawn hadn't left yet. The car was still there.

Exhaling, Morty rushed up to the car and pulled the door handle. It was locked. Frowning, Morty knocked on the window and peered inside to see Shawn smirking at him.

"Well, if you want a ride, get in, dumbass," Shawn laughed.

"It's locked!" Morty frowned, pulling at the door handle again anyway. The older boy knew he'd locked Morty out. He was teasing his foster-brother, like always... "Shawn, please just unlock it," Morty requested, feeling his shoulders slump.

"It's not locked," Shawn laughed. "Just pull on the handle, idiot."

Morty pulled again, which elicited another laugh from his foster-brother. "Shawn, come on... Don't do this..." The older boy was always messing with him like this. Compared to some other things he did though, this really wasn't even that bad. At least it wasn't painful and was only moderately humiliating.

"Guess if you don't want a ride, you can just walk." Shawn shrugged and put the car into drive.

"Shawn!" Morty pounded his fist lightly against the window and followed the older boy as the car began to slowly roll away. "Wait! I don't have time to walk today!" He also was rather fearful of walking due to Shawn's friends who didn't care so much about being late to class sometimes waiting along his route. Morty was almost convinced that Shawn texted or called them to let them know each time Morty was walking, because somehow they always seemed to know when and where he'd be walking alone.

Shawn glanced at him and shook his head with a shrug. "Can't hear you. Guess you're walking then," he called out with another laugh as he sped up the car and left Morty standing in the driveway.

Morty's shoulders slumped as the older boy pulled away from the curb, rolling down his window and looking out at Morty with an arrogant smirk on his face as he furthered his distance.

"Better hurry," Shawn suggested.

With a tired exhale, Morty did the only thing he could do - he began walking toward school. He knew he'd be late. He knew his first period teacher would give him detention, yet again. He knew his foster-dad would be angry with him when he heard about said detention and would probably make him sleep in the basement as punishment... But there was nothing he could do about that now.

The only thing he could hope for was that if he walked fast, maybe he'd only miss half of his class, and maybe his teacher would take pity on him. It hadn't ever happened before, but he figured he might as well hope for the best.

Morty picked up the pace to a near-jog as he hugged his textbooks against his chest. It ordinarily took twenty-seven minutes to walk to school. He knew this because he'd done it many times. It only took a couple minutes to drive... He looked down at his watch. Class started in four minutes.

With a frustrated groan, Morty started going faster. He was practically running by this point, but he really didn't want to be late again. The teachers were losing patience with him fast - would probably think of something worse than detention before long, and his foster-parents were losing patience even faster.

As he ran down the sidewalk so fast he could hardly even remember which buildings he had passed already, he almost collided with a man stepping out the doorway of a convenience store. Morty stumbled to the side to avoid slamming straight into the guy, tripping and dropping his books in front of him all over the sidewalk as he caught himself on his palms.

Morty felt tears in his eyes as he dragged himself to his knees and looked down at his hands, which were a bit scuffed up from the sidewalk. He was so tired of almost every day being a chaotic nightmare.

"Watch it, kid," the man grumbled, not even offering to help Morty up or even ask if he was okay as he walked away.

"Sorry," Morty breathed out, ignoring the stinging feeling covering his palms. He crawled forward on the sidewalk and collected his books before dragging himself up to his feet and walking briskly toward his destination. He looked over his shoulder. The man he'd narrowly avoided hitting wasn't even looking back. Morty wanted to be more careful so he wouldn't risk running into anyone else, but he couldn't afford to. He had to get to school... Now.

So he quickened his pace to a jog and then a run, and finally a full-on sprint. He was starting to feel genuinely panicked. He didn't have time!

Morty turned a corner and continued running. Maybe if he could manage to be less than ten minutes late, things wouldn't be so bad... Maybe he could get a warning instead of an actual detention. His teachers never bothered to ask why he was late, but maybe he could tell them anyway - force them to listen, maybe be understood for once.

But as soon as that thought entered his head, it was dashed. Up ahead, someone he recognized stepped out of an alley. It was Luke - Shawn's friend, a young man who'd graduated high school last year, but who still lingered around the school all the time and often bullied the younger kids - Morty in particular.

Morty skidded to a stop. In his near-panicked rush, he had all but forgotten the possibility of Shawn's friends ambushing him, even though this was not the first time they'd done so, and certainly wouldn't be the last.

Breathing in and out somewhat tired and frightened breaths, Morty bit his lower lip and looked ahead at his foster-brother's friend. Luke was staring right at him with a sinister smirk spread across his face. It didn't seem to be chance that he'd run into the guy. The man's eyes were too deliberately scowling down the sidewalk toward him. He looked a confusing mixture of annoyed, pissed off, and really excited.

Swallowing, Morty kept his eyes on Luke and took a step back. Luke was rarely without his friends Jay and Clark - senior boys who didn't seem to mind being late and getting endless detentions they never actually went to. But Morty didn't see Jay or Clark now. They had to be around here somewhere...

He screamed as he felt a pair of hands on each of his upper-arms as two people grabbed at him from behind... That answered the question of where Jay and Clark were...

Clark slammed a heavy hand over Morty's mouth to silence him as he dragged the boy toward Luke and grumbled under his breath. "Scream again and I'll break your arm," he threatened.

Morty whimpered and allowed himself to be pulled along down the sidewalk. They reached Luke and then made their way into an alley before Clark and Jay finally let go of him.

Morty spun himself around to face his bullies as he backed away, unfortunately trapping himself further and further from the street in his effort to distance himself from the older boys. He didn't know if he should plead with these older kids or not... In the past, anything he said was held against him - they'd make fun of his voice, tell him things were going to be worse since he complained, or just hit him harder and harder until he finally stopped begging.

They looked at him expectantly now though - as if waiting for him to offer up some kind of plea, so he did just that, in the least annoying way he could manage.

"H-hey, guys," Morty breathed out as he forced an in-genuine smile. "I was... um... j-just trying to get to school... I, uh... D-did you need something? W-what are... uh..." He wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want to sound weak or whiny - two things he'd been told he was in the past when he asked to be left alone... so he settled on pretending like these boys weren't tormenting him - pretending like he wasn't scared, and just asking what they wanted.

Clark laughed as he reached out and slammed his hand down over Morty's books.

With a yelp, Morty let the books fall from his arms and took another step back.

"Why you walkin' all alone again, Morty?" Luke's voice spoke up as the man took a few steps forward and put his arm around Morty's shoulders in a way that would have looked gentle and harmless if not for the fact that Morty knew for a fact they were most certainly not friends. The gesture was definitely a threat - Luke's way of showing Morty that he could do whatever he wanted - that he could touch Morty even if it made the younger boy uncomfortable, that he could force Morty to stay or go wherever he pleased.

"Um..." Morty hesitated and swallowed a lump in his throat. "Sh-Shawn drove off... I-"

"There's all sorts of weirdos out there, Morty," Luke interrupted. "It's not safe for a little boy like you to walk to school all by himself."

Morty frowned. He wasn't a 'little boy.' He was fourteen. He was practically a grownup. Sure, he was a foot or so shorter than these boys, had just about zero muscle, and felt tiny when surrounded by them... but he wasn't a little kid.

"Do you know what someone might do to you if they saw you walking all alone like this and they decided to take advantage of the situation?" Luke stared down at him with a frown as he pulled Morty tighter with his arm around the boy's shoulders.

Morty stared back. Yeah... he knew what someone might do. They were doing it right now.

"All sorts of things," Luke answered his own question, smirking as he did so. "You know children, such as yourself, get abducted all the time while walking to school?"

Morty frowned. That was pretty clear. These three had practically kidnapped him just now. They had dragged him into an alley and wouldn't let him leave... That was kidnapping as far as Morty understood the word.

"And do you know what these sick perverts do to these poor, defenseless little kids they abduct?" Luke wondered, shoving Morty back against the brick wall of the alley and staring down at him.

Morty gulped and shrunk down. He just wanted to go to school... to sit in the relative safety of a classroom, to have seven hours in the day during which nothing too horrible would probably happen to him. He didn't care if he had friends, or got good grades, or even passed his classes. He just wanted to sit in the building and not feel frightened.

"They do the worst things you could imagine, Morty," Luke answered himself again. "You know..." He stepped forward, trapping Morty in place while the other two older boys just stood back and watched. "I once read about a guy who grabbed up a kid like you off the street..." He put his hand on Morty's upper arm and then ran his fingers all the way down to the boy's wrist. "Just like you..."

Morty shrugged his arm away from Luke and cowered down. "C-can I go now?" he squeaked.

Luke shook his head and grabbed out at Morty's arm again, pulling him back and crushing him painfully against the wall as the older boy held him in place and stared down at him. "Want to hear what the guy did to the little boy?" he asked.

Morty shook his head. "No..." He grimaced.

Luke cocked his head slightly to the side and smirked down at Morty as he decided to tell Morty this story anyway. Morty wondered if the story was Luke confessing to something he did... or something he wanted to do. "The guy grabbed him up, forced him into his van, and made him take off all his clothes," Luke explained as he moved his hands over Morty's upper arms.

Morty shrunk down and held his breath.

"Then he tied the boy up," Luke went on, running his hands down each of Morty's arms and stopping at his wrists, which he gripped very tightly. "His little arms were tied up above his head, like this," Luke explained as he pushed Morty's hands up and crushed them against the brick wall. "He tied his ankles down too," the young man explained, kicking Morty's legs apart. "So then the kid was kind of stuck there. He couldn't move... and he was cold, and alone, and naked. And there was nothing he could do when the man who'd taken him decided to do all sorts of sick things to him."

Swallowing again, Morty pressed himself further against the wall, wishing he could sink through it.

"Wanna hear what kinds of things the man did to him, Morty?" Luke asked.

With a grimace, Morty shook his head. "N-no, Luke... I don't..."

"Want me to show you?" Luke smirked.

Morty stared up at him with wide eyes. This wasn't the first time Luke had said something like this. Last time the man had joked about this kind of thing, Morty had ended up on the ground with his shirt off, and with Luke trying to force his hand down the front of the boy's pants. The only reason he'd escaped then was because an employee at a nearby Chinese takeout place had been taking out the trash into the alley and threatened to call the cops. Luke and his minions had run off, as had Morty - too embarrassed to want to hang around and explain the situation to anyone.

"Well, first we've gotta get these pants out of the way," Luke noted, reaching down toward Morty's jeans.

"No!" Morty screamed and struggled against the man's grip.

Luke scowled down at him and held him down firmly. "Stop screaming... And stop fighting," he threatened.

"Luke, no!" Morty pleaded again as Luke unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and started tugging them down with one hand while holding Morty's wrists in place above his head with his other hand. "W-why are you doing this!? P-please!" Morty begged.

"Stop fighting," Luke instructed again, in too-calm a voice as he wrestled Morty's jeans down to his ankles.

Morty whimpered in pain and fear as he tried to pull his arms out of Luke's grip. He knew the guy was a creep - Luke had proven that time and time again, but it had never escalated this far. "Please stop, Luke! Please!" Morty cried.

"Shhh," Luke reached up and petted Morty's head before moving both of his hands down toward Moty's hips and gripping the boy's underwear. He yanked the garment down quickly, causing Morty to intake a sharp breath and squeeze his eyes shut.

"Luke, don't! Please!" Morty sobbed as he moved his hands down to cover himself.

Luke shook his head. "I gotta show you what I was talking about," the older boy insisted. "So this guy," Luke began. "He wasn't gay or anything... He just didn't like this kid. You know how sometimes you'll do things you wouldn't normally do just because you fucking hate somebody?"

Morty whimpered and tried to hold back tears.

"Well," Luke went on, reaching down and trying to pry Morty's hands away from himself. "Here's what the guy did."

"No! No, no no... L-Luke, I'm sorry! Whatever I did... I-I'm sorry... Please!" Morty gasped, trying to shrink down as he held his hands very firmly over his groin.

Luke gave up on trying to pry Morty's hands away from himself and laughed. "Keep your hands there then. Your little dick's not what I'm after anyway."

Morty frowned as Luke put his hands on Morty's shoulders and moved to turn him around. Before he could, however, Morty felt adrenaline in his chest. He couldn't let this happen. He just couldn't... He balled his hand into a fist and slammed it against Luke's jaw as hard as he possibly could.

Luke took a step back and Morty quickly reached down toward his underwear, but before he could pull his clothes back up, Clark had come to his friend's aid. The older boy was on Morty within a second, punching him hard across the face so that Morty stumbled back, tripping over his pants and underwear that were near his ankles and falling back against the ground with a pained wince.

Clark was on him in no-time, swinging a punch against his ribs so that Morty doubled over in pain and curled in on himself. "Stop!" Morty choked out as he pulled himself into a little ball, barely even caring anymore that his jeans and underwear were around his ankles and that he was completely exposed. For the moment, he only wished Clark would stop hitting him.

But Clark didn't stop. He hit Morty again and again, against the boy's ribs, on his cheek... He even grabbed Morty's arm and attempted to wrestle him out of the tiny ball he'd squeezed himself into, but Morty stayed put, placing his hands over his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

"Move over, Clark," Luke's angry voice ordered as he pulled his friend off of Morty and hovered over the younger boy. "Why do you have to make everything so difficult?" he growled.

Morty choked out a pained breath, but kept his eyes closed and kept himself in his defensive little ball position. It wasn't until he felt a hand on his backside that he gasped and uncurled himself, shakily scrambling away until Luke's hand around his arm stopped him.

Luke violently yanked Morty up to his feet, shoved him face-first against the brick wall, and held him there as he whispered breathlessly into his ear. "Hold still, you little fuck. I told you not to fucking fight me. You're gonna regret that."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Morty whimpered as he heard the sound of Luke unbuckling his belt.

"Please don't do this." Morty shook his head and felt himself trembling. After Clark's rather violent retribution, Morty was feeling extremely weak and defeated. He could barely stand, much less fight.

"Shut up. Say anything else and I'll fuck your mouth afterward too," Luke threatened, every bit of false gentleness of his voice completely gone now. He was quite clearly fed up with Morty fighting back and wasn't in the mood for games anymore.

Morty choked back a sob as he heard Luke unbuttoning and unzipping his pants.

So it looked like this was finally happening for real - Luke had threatened him with this kind of thing before, but it had never really panned out into anything so horrifying. Usually it was just comments, which Morty at first didn't even honestly take seriously. They were creepy and disturbing, but he figured Luke was trying to scare and embarrass him more than anything... But this was real. It was really happening. Luke wasn't bluffing.

Morty held his breath and cowered down as much as he could. He supposed this was inevitable. Luke had always sort of implied something like this was coming, and he was finally delivering on those threats. Morty would just have to suffer through it, just like he suffered through the rest of his painful existence.

"Hey! You boys get out from back there!" A voice suddenly called out.

Morty exhaled a shaking, relieved breath as Luke let him go and ran off along with his friends. The boy sank down to the ground and shook as he could barely even think of what to do next.

The same man who'd stopped Luke the last time had stopped him again. The guy didn't seem to actually care that Morty was being hurt - he just didn't want commotion near his store... but that was okay. Whether the guy gave a damn or not, he'd stopped Luke and his friends, and that was all that really mattered.

Morty pulled himself up off the ground and quickly tugged his underwear and pants back up with trembling fingers as he avoided eye contact with the shop-owner. This was extremely humiliating...

"Get out of here," the restaurant owner grumbled again. "I'm so sick of you kids using my alley as some kind of sick sex fight club. Get the fuck out of here!"

Morty swallowed and did as he was asked, grabbing his school books off the ground and scrambling out of the alley and onward toward school. He hoped Luke, Clark, and Jay had gone off somewhere else and wouldn't bother him again today, but he really had no idea where they'd gotten to.

Morty looked down at his watch. Class had started eleven minutes ago. He was already late, and still had a way to walk. He groaned, hugging his books to his chest and not even bothering to run anymore. He was definitely going to get a detention for this - and unless he wanted to explain to his teacher that the other boys had attacked him - and thus make Luke and his cronies even more angry with him - he didn't even have a good excuse.

He walked onward, contemplating not even going to school at all by this point, but it wasn't like he had anywhere else to go...

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	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

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Morty frowned as he watched the clock up on the wall in the classroom in which he was serving his detention. Most kids would have been eagerly waiting for their sentence to run out - to be free again... but not Morty. He was dreading the moment that clock was to strike five o'clock, because that meant he'd have to go home, and home wasn't very pleasant.

At least in detention, no one would yell at him or hurt him. He just had to sit here, with a teacher right there. No one could bother him with the teacher up front... and the teacher wasn't allowed to hit him or grab him like his foster parents did. This was the safest place he knew. Maybe no one here gave a damn about him, but at least they didn't actively abuse him either. The second he stepped out of this school, all sorts of awful things could potentially await him. Shawn's friends could be waiting for him... Luke had seemed pretty serious about wanting to carry out that horrible, dreadful thing he'd tried to do. Maybe Shawn would be waiting too - ready to kick the shit out of him or hold him down for his friend to do whatever he wanted.

And then what was even worse was the fact that even if he made it home unharmed, he still wouldn't feel safe. His foster-dad was going to be pissed at him. Morty was supposed to go home and do the dishes immediately after school, so they'd be done when his foster-dad got off work at five... Now Morty was getting out of school at the same time. Even if he could get home fast (which he couldn't - since he had to walk) there was no way he could get the dishes done in time. So not only would his foster-dad be upset about Morty getting detention - again - but he would also be bitter about the dirty dishes. Shawn was probably home right now dirtying up even more...

Morty frowned as he stared up at the clock. Ten more minutes. He wished he could tell the teacher he didn't want to leave. He wished it could be like books and movies where the teachers noticed bruises and nervousness and actually did something about it - where he could tell the man sitting up at the front of the room right now that he was scared to go home, for so many reasons, and that the man would tell him everything would be alright and mean it. As it were, Morty had only ever told one adult that he was scared of home - his previous home, where his foster-mother yelled at him for every little thing, made him shower in the back yard with cold water from a hose, and sometimes hit him. He told a teacher, and he got taken away from her - and sent to an even worse home. Morty could hardly imagine how things could be worse, but he supposed they could be. At least no one in his family sexually abused him... Shawn's friends seemed to want to - and Shawn seemed to know and encourage it - but so far, no one inside the actual home had tried anything like that... and that was a big reason Morty kept his mouth shut about the yelling and physical violence. Things could always get worse. If he got removed from this home, maybe the next one would have two mean foster-brothers - ones like Luke, who would hurt him much worse than Shawn did.

Frowning, Morty stared down at his notebook. He was pretty sure he was supposed to be writing something, but had zoned out when it was explained. So far he only had some doodles on his page, of a space ship and the stars. He always loved the idea of escaping into space. If he was a brilliant scientist, maybe he'd invent some kind of space ship so he could leave this place... Or maybe he'd invent time-travel to go back and prevent his real family from dying.

Morty was only three the day everyone he knew and loved - everyone who knew and loved him - had died. They were on the interstate, traveling home from visiting his grandparents - who were apparently too old to take him in after what happened... because here he was - not with them...

The car had stopped because of a traffic jam due to an accident up ahead, but it seemed not everyone driving on the road that day at seventy miles per hour had expected traffic to be at a stand-still. A huge truck had plowed right into the back of their car. It was a very significant accident, because so many cars were packed in a cramped space and the semi-truck was so large. Morty didn't remember the accident itself, but he had a newspaper clipping about it. Twenty-six different cars were involved and eight people died, including his mom, dad, older sister, and grandpa. Their car had been hit the worst apparently, because four out of its five occupants never made it out alive. The other four deaths were from three different nearby cars.

Morty had been so young and wasn't fully aware of what was going on for a while. He was in the hospital for a week or so, lived with his paternal grandparents for a couple months, and then moved in with people he didn't know. He didn't remember much of it. He just knew he had his grandparents and only his grandparents... and then he didn't even have them.

A part of him was really bitter about them not taking him in long term. He was their grandchild after all - and the only thing they had left of their son, but another part of him accepted that maybe they didn't really like him, and he certainly didn't want to live with people who didn't like him and were only pretending. At least with these awful people he lived with now, his place was quite clear. They did not like him and he damn well knew it.

Morty stared at the clock again. Four more minutes...

He wished he could have a family who really did love him. It didn't even have to be perfect. He didn't need a mom and dad. He didn't need siblings or grandparents or pets. He didn't care if the house was nice or if there were big family holidays like in the movies. He just wanted one person... Just a mom who loved him and would protect him from all harm like any good mom would. Or maybe just a dad, who would teach him how to stand up to bullies and help him with homework and teach him to drive. Or maybe an older sister to joke around with, but who wouldn't ever hurt him just to be mean. Or a grandparent or two who would give him life advice and tell him stories about the old days... Just... anyone. He wasn't asking for much. Just one person... One person on the planet who would give a damn about him - who would see bruises on his face and arms and would ask about them, worry about them, make sure that whatever caused them wouldn't get another chance to...

But maybe that was way too much to hope for. Maybe the movies were just a dream to everyone. Maybe most families were awful, and Morty was only romanticizing the one he'd lost because he barely even remembered them.

"You kids can go. I won't make you wait 'til five," the teacher up front spoke up, shaking Morty out of his thoughts. "Remember why you were here today and work on not making the same mistake again," he droned out in a very disinterested voice. He wasn't even looking at any of the four students in the room. He was still looking down at a magazine he had opened on his desk. Morty narrowed his eyes. He was pretty sure the magazine was porn.

Shaking his head, Morty stood up and walked to the door, going as slowly as he could without looking totally weird. He really didn't want to go home, and kind of hoped that Mr. James would glance up at him, notice the bruises, and ask him to stay for a minute to get to the bottom of it. That didn't happen. The man continued staring down at his magazine.

Morty frowned and looked down at the floor as he made his way to his locker, opened it, and shoved his notebook inside. He wasn't even going to take any of his books home tonight. There wasn't a point. Why even try with homework? He was late to classes all the time, often got his homework taken by Shawn or his friends even when he did do it. What did it matter?

He shoved the locker door closed and made his way out of the school, walking slowly now, which was a gamble. He didn't know if Luke and his friends might be waiting... But he knew what waited for him at home, so he took the risk and made his walk home longer so he could avoid setting foot into the house for as long as possible.

Morty took alternate routes from usual today, both because he didn't really want to reach his house, and because if Luke or the others were waiting for him somewhere, it would be along his usual route.

As he walked, he spotted a pine cone on the sidewalk and made a little game out of kicking it along with him. He wondered what his sister would be like now if she hadn't died. He wondered if the two of them had been the only survivors if they would have been allowed to live in the same foster-home. It would have been awfully cruel to separate siblings like that, but Morty could see it happening, especially to him.

He kicked the pine cone again as he paced down the sidewalk and breathed out a loud sigh. He supposed he only had to put up with this kind of life for four more years. Then he could move out. Four years seemed like an awfully long time though - especially when even just this one day had lasted an eternity and was about to get longer...

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Morty kicked the little pine cone further down the sidewalk as he contemplated the possibilities that could arise if he did speak up and tell a teacher everything that was going on with him.

Teachers at that school didn't seem to care much about such things. Surely they could see the bruises all over him. Morty had looked at himself in the bathroom mirror as soon as he finally got to school this morning. He had a dark bruise on his cheek and a small trickle of blood under his nose. The freaking principal had seen all of that - right when Morty walked in, the woman had glared down at him and asked if he had an excused tardy note. She hadn't cared that he was bruised and bloodied. She asked no questions other than about him being late - and not even to find out why he was - just to decide if it was excused or not.

Morty kicked out at the pine cone again and walked after it. Were there any teachers in his school who might give a damn about any of this? Would any of them care that his foster-dad was going to scream at him, possibly hit him, and probably lock him in the basement tonight? Would they care that his foster-brother shoved him and threatened him or that his foster-mom often made him stay up all night without sleep as a punishment, standing in the corner of the kitchen, facing the wall for hours, not even allowed to wear more than boxer shorts in the coldest, most drafty part of the house? Would they care that boys from the school - and one who was even technically a man now, no longer a student, had attempted to rape him and beat him up for no reason? Did anyone care about anything?!

Morty caught up with the pine cone and kicked it again. It bounced off a crack in the sidewalk and flew into the road, wobbling for a second before a truck ran over it, crushing it into tiny little bits. Morty stared at it for a moment, frowning, and then shook his head and walked on.

He could see his house now - or rather, his foster-family's house. It never really felt much like his. It was theirs, and he was just living in it, taking up their space, getting in their way, making them all angrier than they already were.

He sneaked toward the front steps, determined to be as quiet as possible. Maybe he could sneak up to his room, hide under the bed or in the closet, catch some sleep, and then sneak back out in the morning before Shawn woke up - before the boy could make extra certain that Morty was late to class yet again.

As soon as he opened the door, however, that plan was dashed. He was greeted with the angry stare of his foster-mother, whose arms were crossed over her chest as she glared down at him. Smoke drifted lazily from a lit cigarette in one of her hands. She kept staring.

"H-hi," Morty tried in a soft voice, hoping he could appeal to some sense of empathy in the woman. How was she so mad when she didn't even know why he was late? If he told her Shawn's friends had attacked him after Shawn left him here without a ride, would she understand? She should have, but he wasn't so sure that was going to be the case.

"Where've you been?" she asked in an emotionless voice.

Morty swallowed and looked down. "Detention," he squeaked.

His foster-mom shook her head as though disappointed. "We're doing you a favor letting you live here. Do you realize that? You're not my kid. I took you in. I'm being generous to you - inviting you into my house. Letting you take up space in my house and be a part of this family... Can't you just be good for once?"

Morty frowned and stared up at her. He was good! He didn't do anything wrong!

"We give you a place to live, food to eat, clothes to wear, enroll you in school - which all costs money, by the way... Our money.. and this is how you repay us? By getting in trouble more days than not, staying after school instead of coming home and helping around the house like you're supposed to? Is it too much to ask that you do some dishes and laundry and mow the lawn every week? Is that too much for you?" she growled.

"N-no," Morty stammered. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to be late... and I'll still do the dishes... I-I'll do them right now." He moved to walk around her, but she reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"I shouldn't have to ask you." She stared down at him. "This is your responsibility, and when Victor gets home, he's going to be so disappointed. He's already had a long day, having to stay late... This is the last thing he'll want to come home to."

"I'll get them done before he gets home... J-just let me..." Morty felt tears in his eyes. He knew his foster-mom wasn't going to let him do the chore now. He knew from experience that once he made her mad, there was nothing he was going to be able to do to fix it. He hadn't done his job perfectly as she had asked, and it was too late. She was going to make sure it didn't get done now. It wasn't enough that she was probably going to punish him for this, but she wanted to make sure her husband would too.

"You know the punishment, Mortimer," she spoke in a cold, emotionless tone. "Strip. Go stand in the corner."

Morty felt his lower lip trembling as he stared up at her. It was already cold in here... and now he was probably going to be punished twice. Standing in the corner practically naked was punishment enough. It was cold, uncomfortable, embarrassing... and this time it probably wasn't even going to be his only punishment.

"Don't make me have to undress you myself," the woman threatened when Morty made no move to do as she asked. "If you take your punishment without arguing, you can keep your underwear on."

Morty felt tears spilling over as he had no choice but to do as she asked. He remembered the first time he hadn't taken her seriously - shortly after he moved here. She'd asked him to undress and stand in the corner, and he just couldn't believe she really meant it. Even though she'd said he could keep on his underwear if he cooperated, he still thought it was a ridiculous punishment. He honestly thought she was joking because what she'd asked him to do just sounded so crazy... So he laughed when she asked him to undress, and laughed harder when she threatened to do it herself and told him he would be completely naked in that event. He truthfully didn't know she seriously meant it until he was on the ground and she was wrestling his clothes off him, and even after he was fully undressed, he didn't willingly stand in the corner until she hit him pretty hard on the backs of his legs with the wooden handle of a heavy mop.

He knew now that she meant it, and the only thing worse than standing in the corner, cold and humiliated dressed only in underwear, would be to do so completely naked and probably covered in several new bruises. Shawn would probably make fun of him either way, and Morty would be embarrassed either way, but at least he'd be spared a small amount of dignity if he just did what she told him to without fighting her on it.

With shaking hands, Morty stepped out of his pants and shrugged his shirt over his head.

"Socks too," his foster mother demanded. "You know this already, Mortimer."

Morty swallowed and pealed his socks off with his toes, leaving them on the floor as he stared up at his foster-mom. She was frowning down at him.

"What happened here?" She pouted as he grabbed Morty by his arm and yanked him rather roughly so that he faced her more. He looked down to see what she was looking at - very dark bruises forming over his ribs.

Morty swallowed and looked back up at her. Did she really want an answer? Would answering get him into more trouble with Shawn?

"Mortimer," she spoke in a stern voice. "What the fuck is all that? You getting into fights at school?"

"N-no..." Morty answered before thinking better of it. Maybe he should have just claimed it was a fight - implied that he was just as at fault as the person who made the bruises, implied that it was a fair fight. It might at least keep Shawn from being angry with him too.

"What happened then?" She scowled, looking not at all like a concerned mother, but more like someone whose possession had been damaged.

Morty swallowed. Maybe he should just be vague - not name names, but tell the truth... maybe not the whole truth though. She didn't need to know that Luke had been three seconds away from violently raping him.

"Hm?" she asked again, raising her eyebrows and looking like she was inches away from slapping him herself.

"I, um... I was walking to school and some guys t-tried to... m-mug me?" Morty spoke with uncertainty in his slightly shaking voice.

"Walking? Wasn't Shawn supposed to drive you?" She glared down at him.

Morty stared back. So much for keeping Shawn on his good side...

"And there's bruises all over your face," she growled as he reached out with a quick, rough hand and gripped his chin, forcing him to look up at her. "What do you think people are going to think of me if they see you looking like this?"

"I-" Morty hesitated.

"You could get Victor and me in a lot of trouble showing up at school looking like we're beating you," she went on.

Morty frowned. She and Victor did beat him sometimes... just usually not on his face. They knew better than to leave marks where they'd be seen.

"Go stand in the corner. I'm going to talk to your brother." She let go of his face and swatted him lightly against the cheek before shoving him toward the corner.

Morty gulped and did as he was told, wrapping his arms around himself and walking over to the space he'd spent hours of his life already. Staring into the corner, right under an air vent that pumped cold-ish air into the room even when it wasn't summer, even when it was already cold, Morty sniffed back tears. He hadn't even done anything wrong. He couldn't win with these people.

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	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

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Shivering, Morty flinched as he heard the front door open and close. He was still standing in the corner in the kitchen, facing the wall, hugging himself and hoping his foster-father might understand the situation better than his foster-mother had. He wasn't counting on it, but never stopped hoping nonetheless.

Swallowing, Morty looked cautiously over his shoulder as his foster-father walked into the kitchen. The man immediately frowned when he saw Morty standing in the corner. His eyes drifted over to the sink filled with dirty dishes and then back toward Morty.

"Again?" The man frowned.

Morty gulped. "It wasn't my fault... I got a detention because I was late to school, but I didn't mean to be late. I had to walk. B-because Shawn left without me..." Morty hesitated, not wanting to outright blame his foster-brother, but not wanting to take the blame himself either. "I had to walk, and I didn't have time, and then-"

"Shut up with the excuses, Morty!" his foster-father screamed as he swatted him rather roughly across the back of the head.

Morty whimpered and shrunk down.

"I have had it with you," the man growled as he grabbed Morty by his arms and yanked him back away from the wall.

He pulled him away hard enough to make Morty lose his footing and then let go, so that the boy stumbled and fell down to the floor on his hands and knees. Morty whimpered and shrunk down, unsure if he should plead his case, try to stand up, or just stay silently on the floor where he'd landed.

"Get up," his foster-father ordered as he kicked at Morty's ankle. "Get up and go downstairs. I'll meet you there."

Morty swallowed and pulled himself up, reaching toward his discarded clothing on the floor, but flinching back when his foster-father began yelling again.

"No! You leave that there," he demanded. "Go downstairs. Now."

Morty felt his lower lip trembling and his entire chest felt cold with dread as he dragged himself toward the door which led down to the basement. He opened the door and made his way downstairs, cowering down as the darkness enveloped him. It was cold and felt almost wet in the air down here. He hated having to sleep in the basement. It was so cold and dark and scary. There was no bed down here. No blankets... and if he had to stay here only wearing his underwear, he was going to be even colder than usual.

Morty reached the bottom of the stairs and made his way over toward the wall, turning and looking nervously up as his foster father began making his way down. The man's large frame drowned out all the light coming from upstairs, casting a shadow all the way down the steps. Until Victor pulled a cord which turned on a single bulb in the middle of the room, it was entirely dark.

Staring up at the man, Morty took a step back, pressing himself closer against the wall. His foster-father looked so mad, with his hands balled into fists as he glared down at Morty.

"I'm sorry," Morty squeaked, trying to say anything at all to calm the man down.

His foster-father shook his head and continued scowling. "When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it."

"I know, but-" Morty started.

"But nothing!" Victor yelled, taking another step forward and punching his fist against the wall enough to produce a cracking sound.

Morty's mouth snapped closed as he stared at the man's fist and at the cracked spot on the wall's paneling that he'd just practically punched right through.

"I'm not interested in why you didn't do what you were told. I don't care. I only care that you didn't do it. Turn around," the man ordered.

"W-why?" Morty shrunk down.

"Obviously the punishments we've been doing aren't working," he noted as he unbuckled his belt and started pulling it out of the loops of his pants.

Morty swallowed, staring at the man. Why was he taking off his belt? What was he going to do? Morty wondered if this was going to be something even worse than what Luke had been trying to do in the alley. Why else would the man be undressing himself? Morty shook his head and shrunk back against the wall. "P-please... I'll... I'll do the dishes tomorrow... I can do them now. I'll do them all the time... I'll do them forever. Every single one f-forever... I promise." Morty's voice was small and breathless as he backed further against the wall. He was so scared.

Victor pulled his belt the rest of the way through the belt loops and held it in his hands. "Turn around," he said again, in a cold, stern voice that showed Morty exactly how serious he was.

"Y-you can't do this..." Morty felt tears brimming in his eyes. Feeling safe from sexual abuse in this house was the last thing he had left. It was the only thing he didn't have to fear inside what was supposed to be his safe haven. His foster parents and Shawn hurt him, humiliated him, made him feel stupid and worthless... but he never thought he'd have to fear them like that. "Dad..." Morty's voice squeaked, unsure if calling the man that would make him more angry or more lenient. "Please don't... You can't... Please..." Morty's voice shook, as did his entire body.

"It's perfectly legal." Victor took a step forward and put a large hand down on Morty's shoulder.

"No it's not!" Morty trembled and started to cry, but allowed the man to turn him around. He squeezed his eyes shut and shrunk down against the wall he was now facing. He wished he could sink through it. Victor was much bigger than he was. There wasn't any way he could get out of whatever this was. Fighting back or arguing would likely only make things worse.

"Yes it is. Now stop crying. Lots of parents punish their kids with whippings," Victor persisted.

Morty opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder at his foster-father. "W-whippings?" Morty stuttered between his tears. "Y-you're just going to hit me?"

His foster-father laughed. "Is that not enough for you?"

"N-no... I mean yes... I mean..." Morty swallowed nervously and sniffed back tears.

"If it's not sufficient to teach you a lesson, I'll just have to hit you harder and more often," Victor spoke. "Hopefully you'll learn from this so I don't have to keep wasting my time trying to set you straight."

Exhaling a shaking breath, Morty blinked and wondered if he should continue arguing his case in hopes of a more lenient punishment, or just shut up and be glad his foster-father wasn't going to escalate to the specific, terrifying extreme he had for a moment legitimately feared. In a way, he was relieved to hear that his punishment was going to be being violently hit and not something as intimate and traumatizing as what Luke had attempted. In another way, he realized this was going to hurt a lot too, and he didn't feel much less scared.

"Face the wall. Wouldn't want to hit your little face," Victor suggested.

Morty faced away as instructed, but tried one last time to plead with the man. "I was going to do them... I didn't mean to be late, and then I couldn't come home in time. I was going to. I wasn't trying-" He was cut off by his own scream as he felt the leather strap of his foster-father's belt unexpectedly cut across the sensitive skin of his back. Morty trembled and tried to focus on breathing as he fought the urge to attempt to run. He squeezed his eyes shut and put his hands against the wall to keep from falling.

"I don't enjoy this, Morty," Victor noted as he swung the belt out again, eliciting another pained cry from his foster-son. "I just want you to respect the rules of our house and to do the chores we ask you to do. You're old enough to help out around here." He swung the belt again, connecting with Morty's skin and causing him to cry out yet again.

Morty flinched and felt himself shaking as he shrunk down closer and closer to the wall he was facing. He wanted desperately to turn and run any way he could, but he knew that would only make things worse. His foster-father would chase him if he tried to run. Morty would be caught and punished even more harshly.

When the belt lashed painfully across his back again, Morty let out a choked sob and couldn't help but to fall forward, gripping at the wall and sinking to the floor, curling himself into a tiny ball as his foster-father continued hitting him, seeming not to care that the boy was no longer even standing.

"S-stop!" Morty cried out in a shaking, pained voice as he tried to make himself smaller. "Please!"

"Remember this the next time you feel like there's no harm in being a lazy little leech on my household," Victor growled and hit him again.

"Dad, please stop!" Morty sobbed. Was this ever going to end? His entire back stung and he could barely breathe. "Y-your hurting me! Please!" he begged in a trembling voice.

Victor chuckled. "That's the point, kid."

Begging was doing him no good, so Morty curled in on himself further and did the only thing he could do - he waited for the punishment to be over. Each time his foster-father hit him, Morty felt his body jerk involuntarily as he choked out tears and struggled to inhale deep breaths. Victor didn't seem to be holding back much, swinging the belt violent, striking him on top of already throbbing, stinging bruises and welts.

Victor hit him one last time before calmly sliding the belt back into his belt loops and turning toward the stairs. "I'll come let you out at five tomorrow morning for a shower. I expect all the dishes and laundry to be done when I come home after work tomorrow. If they aren't, I'm just going to have to punish you more severely. I don't know what else to do." He sighed and stalked back up the stairs, closing and locking the basement door behind him.

Morty sniffed back tears, stayed on the floor where he had fallen, and curled further in on himself. There was nothing he could say to explain to this man that any time he disobeyed it wasn't his own fault. He seriously was going to do those dishes. Why wouldn't he? Doing dishes was better than standing half-naked in a cold corner for hours or being hit over and over again and left in a cold, wet basement overnight.

Shivering from the cold and from the pain radiating across his back and through his entire being, Morty stared at the spot where the floor met the wall and tried to focus on breathing.

There was a lot of dust down here. No one ever cleaned it. The floor felt slightly damp too. It was like being in a cave - one he never volunteered to explore, but which he was lost in anyway - one he couldn't escape. He watched as a small beetle scampered across the floor and disappeared into a tiny crack in the base of the wall. He wished he could disappear too.

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	6. Chapter 6

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Chapter 6

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Turning slightly to better see himself in the bathroom mirror, Morty stared at his reflection. He'd already taken a shower - a cold one, as his foster-father seemed to have turned off the water heater as further punishment on top of everything else. Now he was left to stare at the red welts covering his back and the darkening bruises on his ribs, cheek, and jaw. His lip was very slightly swollen as well.

Yesterday had been one of the worst days he'd had in quite a while. His foster parents and brother always had short fuses. It wasn't unusual at all to be yelled at or shoved around... but yesterday was too much. His foster-father had never been so violent, and Shawn's friends hadn't either. It was a lot to handle all in one day, and the repercussions from it were still going to follow him.

Shawn was probably mad at him if his mom really did talk to him about leaving Morty behind and not driving him to school... He'd probably do something to pay him back for it - somehow cause him to be late to school again, which would earn him a detention he'd be forced to skip. Doing his household chores was clearly going to be his number one priority. Skipping detention would likely mean his school would contact his parents though, and then he'd be punished anyway. There was no way to please everyone who could make his life hell if he disappointed them.

Morty carefully opened the bathroom door and peered out into the hallway. He was going to make sure to leave himself time to walk today. Shawn couldn't make him late if Morty just slipped out undetected and walked. Maybe he should even leave now - before anyone would expect him to - so Shawn's friends wouldn't know to look for him. All the extra time could allow him to take a strange route - he'd get to school on time and without a hitch.

He crept across the floor and into his room, shrugging into jeans and a t-shirt. He pulled a light jacket on too, as he was still cold from the hours he spent in the cold basement without clothes and the very cold shower he'd just taken.

Next he tip-toed downstairs, wondering if he should do some of the dishes now so he wouldn't have to later or if he should just get out of here. If he started on the dishes, he'd be heard and probably would have a tougher time sneaking out.

"Hey!"

Morty grimaced and shrunk down as he heard the unmistakable sound of Shawn's voice from down the hall. He didn't turn toward the older boy right away, and honestly seriously contemplated just making a run for it.

"I'm talkin' to you, fag," Shawn called again.

Exhaling, Morty turned toward his foster-brother's voice, fully expecting to be hit with something, but finding instead that Shawn was simply standing at the end of the hall, looking at him.

"I'm driving you today," Shawn told him.

Morty frowned. "T-that's okay... I'll walk."

Shawn shook his head. "I'm serious. I was an asshole yesterday. Sorry."

Morty swallowed and narrowed his eyes. It was hard to believe Shawn was genuine.

"Come to breakfast, boys," Morty's foster-mother called out from the kitchen.

Morty felt his breaths becoming short. What was everyone up to? Why were they acting like this? Were they trying to trick him somehow? They didn't have family meals here. They didn't apologize.

"Shawn, Mortimer, you coming?" The woman popped her head out into the hallway and glanced at Morty expectantly. She smiled in a way that would convince anyone who didn't know her that she was a loving mother, as though she hadn't forced him to strip down to his underwear and humiliated him last night. As if she hadn't stood by and let her husband drag him down to the basement and beat him with a belt and leave him down there in the cold without clothing all night.

Morty could tell this wasn't something he was going to be allowed to refuse. His foster-mother wanted to pretend everything was fine, and anything less than him playing along was going to piss her off and make things worse. So he dragged himself toward the table and cautiously sat down in the chair furthest from all the others.

He sat silently as his foster mother put a plate in front of him. It looked like formerly frozen waffles which had been microwaved. While that wasn't really impressive, it was more than Morty expected from the woman, and since he'd had to skip dinner last night, he really was hungry.

She put a glass of water in front of him next and then shoved a bottle of syrup toward him.

"I want you boys both home right after school," she ordered as she sat down next to the chair Shawn had seated himself in. "Mortimer, do whatever chores Victor asked you to do. Shawn, your father's going to need you to help with the cars. I don't remember what exactly he said needs done with 'em, but just make sure you're home to help."

Shawn nodded and smiled at his mother as if they were one big happy family. Morty looked down at his waffles pouring a bit of syrup on the corner of one and then lifting it up and biting that corner off.

"Mortimer!" His foster mother's voice boomed. "Use your silverware!"

Morty flinched as he dropped the waffle and wiped his fingertips on his pants. "Sorry," he spoke in a voice much smaller than he'd intended. He didn't mean to sound so fearful. He knew full-well his foster-mother could turn a disagreement about even something as petty as waffles into something nightmarish.

The woman rolled her eyes and shook her head before turning back toward her son. The two of them began chatting about something, but Morty wasn't listening to them. He was listening to the footfalls on the other end of the house instead. His foster-father would be coming by any time now. Morty hoped the man was just as willing to pretend everything was fine as the others. Even though it was weird and in-genuine, Morty preferred it to the man screaming at him, threatening him, or hurting him.

He carefully cut a second corner off of his waffle, glancing toward his foster-mother to make sure there was nothing about this she disapproved of. He dragged the cut piece through some syrup that had pooled on his plate and raised his fork carefully up toward his lips, making sure no excess syrup dripped down anywhere where it wasn't welcome.

Morty chewed carefully, ignoring the fact that this bite was still partially frozen. His foster-mother wasn't a great cook - even with something as simple as frozen waffles which only needed to be microwaved for as long as the box instructed.

Morty looked up as his foster-father entered the room, poured himself a cup of coffee, and sat down in the chair next to his foster son. Morty held his breath, trying to make himself small as he stared down at his plate. He didn't feel as hungry now. He felt nervous.

Morty flinched and let out a soft gasp as Victor reached over and put his hand lightly on the boy's shoulder. "Shawn's gonna make sure you get to school on time today," he noted.

"Oh," Morty breathed out and tried to shrink down further. "O-okay... T-thanks..."

Victor smiled slightly at him, squeezing his shoulder lightly. "We're gonna get you sorted out, kid. None of us like what happened last night. Nobody's happy when you force us to punish you like that. We're just as upset as you are when stuff like that has to happen."

Morty swallowed and nodded slightly. That was most certainly not true. If they didn't want to hurt and humiliate him, they could have just not done it. And it wasn't like Morty had purposefully disobeyed them. Besides for skipping detention and making things worse, there was nothing he could have done differently.

"I mean it, bud," Victor went on, still squeezing Morty's shoulder in a way that made the boy want to shrug away. He didn't though. "I hate it when you make me resort to punishments like that. I wish you would just not be difficult, but until you learn, things aren't going to be easy for any of us. You've just got to cooperate."

Morty stared silently back, wondering if he was supposed to respond or just listen.

"Remember, we only punish you to correct you when you've done something wrong," Victor continued. "And what we do in our family isn't anybody's business but ours. You know that, right?" He asked, staring sternly into Morty's eyes.

Morty blinked a few times. Was his foster-father asking him to keep quiet about this? Was that what was happening right now? He was pretty sure that part of this deal had already been made clear years ago. Maybe he was only reminding Morty now because the whole thing with the belt had been more violent than usual. He was making sure Morty was still going to keep his mouth shut... Because he knew he'd been excessive and Morty telling anyone might get him in a lot of trouble.

"Are you even listening to me?" Victor frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Y-yes." Morty nodded.

"And what did I say?" Victor asked.

"Not to tell anyone that you hit me," Morty answered.

Victor exhaled and closed his eyes for a moment. "I didn't hit you. It wasn't like I just attacked you out of nowhere. I punished you for misbehaving. You better not be telling anyone that I hit you like you're a poor little abused kid and I'm some monster. I didn't do this just because I wanted to. You earned that beating. Don't you act like I'm out of line here, because I'm not."

"I d-didn't say you were!" Morty winced.

"You might as well have, staring up at me like that, looking like you think you're the victim here," Victor growled. "If anyone from your school or any of your little friends' parents ever come around asking me about this, you're going to regret it. Of course your teachers would think I'm wrong if you lie to them and just say I'm hitting you for no reason. They're not your parent. I am, and you're lucky for that. Most people wouldn't take in a disrespectful teenager in the first place."

Morty swallowed and shrunk down. How had this conversation escalated so fast? He couldn't tell where he'd went wrong.

"I'm tired of you being lazy and then crying and acting like this when I punish you for it," Victor continued. "You brought that on yourself last night, and I really should have been even more strict considering how often you don't do as you're told."

"I-I won't say anything," Morty promised, looking down at his plate. "Y-you're right. I should have done the dishes like you asked. I was wrong... Y-you were j-just correcting me..."

His foster-father finally sighed tiredly, nodded, and patted Morty gently on the back. Morty held still and breathed in a tight breath as Victor's hand landed lightly on top of the painful welts he had inflicted upon the boy the previous night.

"I'm not telling you to stay quiet because this has to be a secret or anything. It's for your sake as much as it is mine. Surely you don't want to have to explain to your teacher or social worker or whoever you tell that you're being lazy and not following your parents' rules. If you tell them we punished you, they'll ask why, and you'll have to tell them the truth. They'd only think you're a spoiled little brat who can't pull his own weight. Maybe send you to a group home. You know how things are in a place like that, right?" Victor went on. "Kids there get beaten and molested, have lice all the time. You don't want that, right?"

"Right," Morty agreed in a small voice as he continued staring down at the waffle on his plate. The syrup was soaking into it. Making it gross and soggy. Morty wasn't hungry anymore anyway though.

"I'm glad you understand. Use this as a learning experience," his foster-father suggested. "Follow the rules around here and you won't ever be punished. Won't matter how painful the punishment is if you do as your told and don't require punishment in the first place.

Morty nodded slightly, but didn't look back up. He was kind of scared even looking at the man would anger him again. For the moment, Victor didn't seem upset anymore, and Morty wanted to keep it that way.

"You ready to go, Morty?" Shawn spoke up as he stood and pushed his chair in.

Morty nodded obediently and stood from his chair as well.

"See you at home, son, Morty," Victor nodded toward them, one after the other. "Five o'clock. Dishes better be done," he added in a more stern tone as he looked at Morty.

Morty nodded quickly and followed Shawn outside, half-expecting the older boy to jump into his car and lock the doors before Morty could get in.

Shawn tossed his books in the passenger seat as he had the previous day and walked around to the driver's side. "Get in the back, fag," he instructed.

Morty looked down, but did as his foster-brother asked. He didn't want to be up front with the older boy anyway. At least he was actually going to get to school on time for once.

The two of them were silent as Shawn pulled out of the driveway and onto the road. Morty frowned when Shawn took a turn he didn't normally take on the way to school.

He swallowed nervously and leaned forward in his seat. "Shawn? W-where are we going?"

Shawn laughed and shook his head as he pulled up to a red light.

Morty felt his breaths growing more frantic as he looked up at the red light and around at the surrounding buildings. Shawn wasn't taking them to school... But what was he up to?

"Shawn?" Morty's small voice asked again. "Where are you taking me?"

Shawn still didn't answer, which made Morty start to feel frantic. The younger boy reached toward the door handle and tugged on it, but it wouldn't open. The child locks must have been on.

"Shawn! Let me out!" Morty whimpered and fell back in the seat when the light turned green and Shawn put on the gas too quickly. "Shawn! Where are we going? Tell me!" Morty insisted.

"Shut the fuck up for once, Morty. If you don't stop bitching, I'm going to pull over and beat the shit out of you," Shawn growled as he continued driving.

Morty bit his lower lip and watched out the windows. "Just tell me what we're doing... It's not like I can do anything about it... Just tell me." Morty frowned.

Shawn shook his head and took another turn, pulling up to a curb and putting the car into park.

Morty looked outside. They looked like they were in front of cheap apartment complex. Morty tugged on the car's door handle again, and then tried the other side. He pressed the buttons to attempt to roll the windows down, but those wouldn't work either. Shawn had something planned, and he'd made sure in advance that Morty wouldn't be able to get out.

Morty gulped as he saw someone exiting the apartment building. His heart felt like it was sinking in his chest and his throat felt tight. It was Shawn's friend Luke.

"Shawn, no!" Morty whimpered, climbing across the seat and desperately pulling at the handle on the other door. "Let me out!" He screamed when that door didn't budge either. Luke was the last person on earth Morty wanted to be around, and he didn't even go to their school... It wasn't like Shawn was giving his friend a ride to the same place they were going.

When Shawn ignored him, Morty started feeling incredibly desperate and frightened. He climbed up toward the front of the car. He'd just have to get out through the front...

"Stop freaking out, you little fucking girl," Shawn growled as he pried Morty's hand off the side of his seat and shoved him toward the back. "I'm giving him a ride to work. Jesus Christ. We have extra time. We'll still get to school."

Morty swallowed hard and shrunk down in the back seat. Did Shawn know what Luke had tried to do to him yesterday? Was this some kind of repayment for Morty telling Shawn's parents that the older boy hadn't driven him to school yesterday? Was he doing this on purpose? Or was it really just a coincidence? It would explain why Shawn had made Morty sit in the back - so his friend could have the front seat.

Nervously, Morty leaned back, but stared out the window as Luke approached. The young man bent down and looked into the front seat until Shawn rolled the window down so the two could talk to each other.

"Hey, Shawn," Luke smiled at his friend and then glanced toward the back seat and offered Morty a strange, cocky smirk as well. "Hey, Morty."

Morty simply stared back and watched as Luke focused back on Shawn. "So you're still taking me where we talked about?"

Shawn nodded. "You can sit in the back."

Morty felt his stomach do a flip. Shawn had to have known... He was doing this on purpose.

Luke smirked as he pulled open the back door and slid into the seat next to Morty. "How's it going, little boy?"

Morty frowned and looked down at his shoes, not wanting to even respond. Maybe if he just didn't react to anything the guy said, he could avoid conflict.

Shawn put the car back into drive and took off, while Luke slid across the seat closer to Morty, putting his arm out and letting it rest on Morty's shoulders as he pulled the boy up against him. Morty stiffened and held his breath. He honestly didn't know what to do...

"You never let me finish that story I was telling you yesterday," Luke smiled down at him. "Do you remember where we left off?"

Morty felt his bottom lip trembling as he looked up toward Shawn, half-expecting his foster-brother to step in and save him. He didn't know why he had that hope in his mind though. The boy had never saved him from anything else in his life, and seemed to have orchestrated this whole encounter.

"Remember?" Luke went on reaching his free hand out and putting it on Morty's thigh, rubbing lightly, inching his fingers slowly toward Morty's groin. "The story about the little boy and the man who kidnapped him? Remember?"

Morty reached down and grabbed Luke's hand, prying it off of his leg and attempted to shrug down away from his arm around his shoulders. "Stop..." He requested in a small voice, feeling the weight of everything that had happened in the last day weighing heavily on him. He was so exhausted, and so sick of everyone treating him like he was garbage. Everyone he knew either didn't care about him at all, were endlessly frustrated and angry with him, or just wanted to hurt him for no reason. "Please just stop..." Morty heard his own voice shaking with unshed tears.

"Aww," Luke put his arm back around Morty's shoulders and reached his other hand up toward the boy's cheek. "Don't cry, little boy. It's alright. It's only a story..."

Morty reached toward the car's door again, yanking desperately on the handle. "Shawn, let me out!" He cried as he pounded his fist against the car's window. "Please let me out..." He couldn't help but to break down into soft sobs as he stared down at the floor of the car and shrunk down as much as he could.

"Fine. We're here anyway," Shawn spoke up.

Morty sniffed back tears as he looked up and peered out the window. This looked like some kind of construction site, but there were no workers present. He looked around out all the car windows he could see out of from where he was sitting. There was no one out there. Is this were Luke worked? Did he work in construction? If so, where were his co-workers?

Shawn must have turned off the child lock on Luke's window at least, because the man pushed the button and rolled it down before reaching out through it and opening his door from the outside.

Just when Morty was about to finally relax and actually believe what Shawn had said about this only ever being about taking Luke to work, the man reached back into the car, grabbing Morty by his arm and yanking him rather violently out through the door.

"Wait!" Morty screamed, grabbing at the car's door frame and trying to hold on. He locked eyes with Shawn, who stared coldly back. "Don't let him do this, Shawn! Please!" Morty begged, trying desperately to keep ahold of the door while Luke was pulling him away from it. "Shawn, please! Don't let him! Please!"

Shawn shook his head and looked back out the windshield. "Close the door behind you, Luke," he called out to his friend.

Luke finally pried Morty's hands off the car and pulled the boy tightly against his chest, crushing one hand over Morty's face to stifle his pleas and slamming the car door with the other. Morty whimpered as he watched Shawn drive away and as Luke dragged him backward into a terrifyingly secluded area.

Morty whimpered a muffled cry through Luke's hand as the young man pulled him further into the seemingly deserted construction zone.

"Time to finish that story, little boy," Luke smirked as he shoved Morty roughly down against the dusty gravel covering the ground. "No restaurant staff's gonna come out and stop me this time."

Morty shook his head as he struggled to scramble to his feet as Luke reached down toward him. "Get away from me!" Morty screamed in a frantic, shaking voice as he slapped Luke's hands in an effort to get the man to back off.

Luke wasn't going to give up just yet, however. The man was barely inconvenienced by Morty's hands batting his away, but he did seem angered by it. "Get back here, you little runt," he growled, reaching after the boy and grabbing him firmly by his arms. He dragged Morty up off the ground, squeezing his hands hard around the boy's arms the more Morty struggled. "You've got two choices, kid," Luke told him as he scowled down at the boy. "Mouth or ass. Pick one."

Morty felt his chest grow cold as he shook his head and bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling. "Luke, please..." he started. "I-I didn't tell anyone about yesterday... I won't say anything... J-just let me go... Please!"

"Choose, or I'm choosing for you," Luke persisted.

"No!" Morty cried out, trying to squirm out of the man's grip. Luke rewarded this gesture with a hard punch against the boy's ribs.

Morty coughed a pained breath and squeezed his eyes shut, but knew he couldn't give up. "Get off of me! Help!" he screamed as he shoved his hands against Luke's chest. "Someone help me! Heeeelllp!"

Luke shook his head. "No one can hear you. We're in the middle of nowhere... Tell me where you want this." He gestured toward his crotch. "I have no problem deciding for you, but if you've got a preference, just let me know."

Biting back a sob, Morty shook his head again. "Luke, please... Why are you doing this to me?" His voice shook as he held back tears.

"Because I want to, Morty," Luke smiled down at him, putting his hand against Morty's head and practically petting his hair. "I'm horny, and I want to stick my dick someplace warm and tight - which, I guess since you're letting me pick..." he trailed off, shoving Morty back down to the ground and climbing down on top of him.

"Stop!" Morty pleaded in a shaking voice as he continued attempting to shove his attacker off of him. Luke effortlessly wrestled Morty's pants down his legs as the boy couldn't help but to let his tears fall. "Luke, please don't do this! Please!" He cried.

"You want it in your mouth instead?" Luke raised an eyebrow and stared down at him as he pinned Morty's wrists down above his head and held his other hand firmly over the boy's chest.

Morty whimpered and stared back.

"Do you?" Luke asked again. "I'm not going to keep asking. You need to speak up. Tell me you want me to cram my dick down your throat, or I'm going to shove it up your ass. It's your choice, but you've got to speak up."

Morty pouted and made another effort to yank his arms away from the man's hands.

"Fine," Luke growled, reaching down with the hand not holding down Morty's wrists and pulling at the boy's underwear, yanking the garment down Morty's thighs and then effortlessly flipping him over onto his stomach. Luke pressed his hand against the back of Morty's head, holding him firmly down as he pressed his knee up between Morty's legs, forcing him to spread them.

Morty felt his heart pounding and his breaths coming short and shallow. He felt like he might pass out. He was so scared and the panic rising in his chest was making him feel light-headed. This was going to hurt so badly. Luke was so much bigger than him, and though several people in Morty's life had had trouble keeping their hands to themselves, nothing quite so horrific as this had ever been inflicted upon him.

He pressed his hands against the dirty, gravel-covered ground, trying to push himself up with shaking, exhausted arms. "Please don't, Luke..." he begged in a trembling voice. "I'll do anything... Please... Please don't hurt me. I just... I just wanted to go to school-" Morty cut himself off as a sob rose in his chest. He felt so defeated. All he wanted to do was just go to his classes and do the chores his foster-father had asked him to. Perhaps the worst part of all this was that he was going to suffer now and later. Not only was Luke going to hurt and humiliate him, but every moment he spent being attacked by the man made Morty that much closer to being late to class again. He'd get another detention, would fail to complete his chores, and would be humiliated again by his foster-mother and hurt again by his foster-father.

Morty felt entirely pathetic as he could do nothing but sob in fear, pain, and defeat. He couldn't understand why life had been so cruel to him. What had he ever done to deserve all this? "P-please-" Morty interrupted himself with another shaking sob. "I j-just-" Another pathetic whimper rose in his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut as he felt some of the air he was struggling to inhale contained dust from the gravel Luke was practically shoving his face into. "L-let me g-go to s-sc-school... p-please!" He stuttered, coughing as he felt the dust dirtying the only air he was afforded tickling his lungs painfully.

Luke paused as he hovered over the boy. For a moment, Morty wondered if his pleading had actually worked. Was that even possible? Luke didn't seem like the sort who would feel any empathy. This is what he wanted to do, and there was no real reason for him to give in now. It wasn't like Morty could actually do anything other than sob and beg.

"Get on your knees then." Luke finally suggested. "Suck my dick, without biting, without fighting me the whole time. It won't hurt, and then I'll call Shawn and ask him to come back. You can still make it to school," Luke offered, using a tone that sounded like he honestly believed he was doing Morty a favor by offering up this alternative. "Just do as I say, and it'll be quick and painless. You won't get in trouble with your dad, because I'll make sure you aren't late to school. How about it?"

Morty sniffed back tears as he lay still and silently on the ground, face-down, with his pants and underwear still tugged down to his ankles and with Luke's leg still forced awkwardly and humiliatingly up between his legs.

"There's no reason for this to have to get violent and painful. Cooperate, and it'll be over before you know it. Then you'll be back in school, not being late... Not getting detention. Not making your parents angry."

Morty hadn't ever participated in any sexual acts that included anyone other than himself - nothing besides things like what Luke had already done - someone getting too close, but not taking it to the horrifying level Luke clearly intended. It seemed this time he had no choice though. Luke was going to force this on him. There was no one around to save him this time, and the young man was determined.

Maybe, Morty thought, he should just agree to the lesser of the two acts - the one that seemed like it would hurt less. It would feel awful to actually verbally agree to that and carry it out without fighting, but what choice did he really have? It was awful, humiliating, and terrifying, but a degree less so than the alternative.

"So?" Luke petted the back of Morty's head with one hand and ran his other down over the boy's back, over his exposed backside and then up under his shirt, almost like he thought the gesture would be comforting.

"Okay..." Morty finally whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and immediately whimpering as soon as he'd said it. No part of him wanted to do this, but he hoped to spare himself from something worse.

"Good boy," Luke pulled Morty up to his feet and bent down into an extremely awkward hug. Morty did not hug the man back. Instead, he stood frozen in confusion and fear as Luke ran his hands down his back and over his still-exposed backside and thighs and then upward again, under his shirt and over the skin of his back.

When Luke finally pulled away, Morty reached down toward his underwear and pants, but Luke shook his head and grabbed the boy's hands. "Leave it. Just get on your knees. Do a good job with this, and you can get dressed."

Morty frowned. It was bad enough he had to do this at all. Now he had to do it while his private parts were completely exposed?

"Kneel," Luke instructed again, somewhat forcefully helping Morty into the position when the boy wasn't quick enough. "Remember not to bite me. I could shove more than my dick into you... If you bite me, it's not going to save you from anything. It'll just make things worse."

Morty's lip trembled as he allowed tears to roll down his cheeks and inhaled shaking breaths. He felt dizzy and disoriented. His ears and cheeks felt hot and his chest felt hollow and cold. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe more evenly.

"Open your eyes, Morty," Luke instructed as he put his hand on Morty's chin and tilted his face upward. "Don't bite," he added again with a laugh.

Morty swallowed and choked back a small sob as he watched Luke begin to unzip his pants and then reach his hand down into the front enough to grip himself.

Before the man had a chance to take this the rest of the way home, however a strange green light of some sort suddenly appeared right on top of him.

Morty frowned and stared at the light in confusion. He'd never seen anything like it.

He didn't have much time to stare at the glowing spot though. Within half a second, he realized the light that had materialized right where Luke was standing hadn't just shown up on top of the man, taking up the space around him - it was taking up space within him too, forcing his body to fall in half, like the light was some kind of laser that literally split the man in two.

Morty's mouth dropped open as he stared in horror as Luke's body fell in half, each side tipping a different direction and falling to the ground with a thud. Morty started breathing panicked, shocked breaths then, as he gazed at the young man, from one side of his body lying on one side of the glowing green oval, to the other half of him lying on the other side.

He couldn't tell what this green thing was - a laser maybe... a hallucination... some sort of miracle from some kind of god or karma or aliens or whatever cosmic force or creature might for some reason be looking out for him. Whatever it was, it made very little sense, and frightened him more than anything.

It wasn't until he saw someone stepping out of the strange light that Morty finally allowed a scream to tear from his throat. The light alone was terrifying enough. Human beings stepping out of it made it all the more confusing and scary.

As Morty stared at the man, who looked to be holding a gun of some sort, he felt his chest tightening and his vision growing foggy. What the hell had just happened? Who was this guy? Whoever he was, he'd just cut another human being in half with whatever this green glowing thing was. Maybe Morty was going to be killed next...

"Morty?" The old man spoke with a frown and furrowed brows as he turned toward the boy.

Morty gasped as he stared at the guy. How did he know his name? All at once, Morty felt very dizzy and breathless. He couldn't deal with this... It was all too much. He felt his limbs growing heavy and numb and his lungs failing to intake enough oxygen as he started to fall forward. His eyes rolled back in his head and darkness enveloped him.

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	7. Chapter 7

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Chapter 7

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Rick could do nothing but stare in shock and horror at the version of Morty he had been checking in on periodically over the past day and a half. Ever since he'd located this Morty with his inter-dimensional goggles, he'd been trying to keep an eye on him to make sure nothing like this happened. He hadn't expected that it would, so he hadn't been checking in all that often. Obviously this Morty needed a lot more protection than Rick realized.

Presently, the kid was lying face down on the ground where he'd fallen, completely passed out, with the cut in half body of his attacker lying in two separate places nearby him. When Rick had portaled his way here, he'd intentionally set his portal to show up on top of the rapist kid, knowing that it would kill him. After all, Rick had pretty much positioned an entire dimension between one half of this gross son of a bitch and the other half. Portals were harmless until they showed up inside you.

Rick focused back on Morty. The boy's pants and underwear were pulled down around his ankles - Rick hadn't been witness to that part of whatever the hell this was. The fact that the boy was undressed like that made Rick feel like vomiting. He'd hoped that when he checked in on the kid and saw what this other kid was doing to him, that Rick would have gotten here in time to fully prevent it, but maybe he was too late. Maybe he'd only caught the end of a very extensive, thorough sexual assault...

Rick hadn't had any idea how badly this kid needed someone to step in and help him. From his first impressions of what he witnessed through the goggles - through this Morty's eyes, Rick had guessed that the kid's life wasn't perfect, but that it wasn't awful either. The boy seemed to be okay really, but that clearly wasn't true. It seemed Rick just so happened to have only witnessed the more mild parts of the kid's life - the parts that didn't reveal to him that the boy was covered in bruises and being threatened with sexual assault. Up until now, Rick hadn't felt he had any real reason to step in and rescue the boy just yet.

When he started watching out for the boy yesterday morning, his first a glimpse of the kid's life was Morty arguing with his foster brother - in a way that seemed rather minor. He'd had similar interactions with his foster parents. They were clearly shitty people, but didn't seem too damaging.

Later the same day, he'd checked in to find that Morty was safely at school - staring at the clock on the wall. The next time he checked in, everything was black, indicating that Morty was probably asleep. And then he'd checked in this morning, in time to see the whole family sitting at a table having breakfast together. The mother had seemed like kind of a bitch, but they all seemed good enough - safe enough that Rick didn't feel like he had to fear for the boy's safety.

He just so happened to check in during four moments that seemed pretty normal, but now that he saw how Morty looked now - undressed, covered in bruises of various shades - in various stages of healing - it seemed obvious that the few moments Rick had seen weren't necessarily the norm. This kid had been through hell, possibly for years before Rick ever knew he existed.

When he checked in with his goggles just now, he was rather shocked to find that the world through the kid's eyes was a low view, looking up as though kneeling, with a young man Rick didn't recognize laughing and unbuckling his belt as Morty choked out broken fearful sobs. Rick had no other choice but to portal in right then and there, right on top of Morty's attacker. The portal cut the kid in half as Rick stepped through, but apparently all of that commotion - and maybe whatever Morty had been suffering through up until that point had cause the poor kid to pass out.

Rick cautiously made his way up to the boy, who was lying totally limp, face down on the ground.

Frowning and raising his eyebrow, Rick stared down at the kid. He was half-tempted to just leave and forget this whole thing. There was a good chance this kid was so emotionally scarred that traveling with him would be a fucking nightmare... But could he stand to leave this kid who was basically his grandson to such an uncertain but probably violent fate?

As he stared down at the boy, he noticed his t-shirt had ridden up on his back a bit. Rick could see a few small patches of very red skin, disappearing under the shirt. If he had to venture a guess, he'd assume those were welts from being beaten with something.

Rick knelt down, carefully pulling the kid's shirt up further and grimacing when he saw the rest of the marks, crisscrossing over the small space of the boy's back. Whoever had done this must have hit the kid at least five or six times, and very hard too.

Rick retracted his hand and took a quick step back as Morty began to stir. The boy whimpered softly as he blinked a few times, but didn't look toward Rick. Maybe he hadn't even remembered seeing the man and was confused about what had even happened...

The boy pulled himself up with shaking arms, taking in a sharp breath and letting out a soft moan. He pulled himself to his feet, but still hadn't turned toward Rick. As the kid reached down and began pulling up his underwear with trembling hands, he glanced to the side long enough to see half of his attacker's body lying on the ground.

It seemed that's what it took to bring back his memory of the past couple minutes, because he immediately screamed and turned toward Rick, screaming again as he stumbled back, tripping over his pants which were still around his ankles. He fell back onto the ground and crawled backward away as he stared up at the man with fear and confusion in his eyes.

"Oh my god... Oh my god!" Morty gasped breathlessly as he crawled backward, staring at Rick as though he expected the man to transform into a monster and claw out his heart. "W-what did you do to him? W-what was that?" he stuttered. "Don't kill me... P-please don't kill me!"

Rick frowned. "I'm not gonna kill you, Morty. Calm down."

"H-how do you know my name?" Morty shrunk down, drawing his legs closer to himself and bringing his hands up near his face as though contemplating hiding his eyes with them.

"Get up off the ground and get dressed, Morty," Rick advised. He didn't want to talk to the kid like this, with the boy cowering down with his pants around his ankles. It made Rick feel like a creep.

Morty dragged himself up to his feet and shakily pulled his pants up. "Wh-who are you? How d-do you know who I am? What did you do to him?" His gaze shifted toward the older boy's body and then back toward Rick. The boy still had tears in his eyes and his voice was shaking as though he was seconds from starting to cry again.

"I'm Rick, Morty..." Rick explained. "You remember your Grandpa Rick?"

Morty sniffed back tears and shook his head, shrinking away from Rick. "M-my grandpa's dead," he said in a tiny voice.

"Yeah, but I'm not," Rick attempted to explain. "You've heard of the multiverse, right?"

"W-what?" Morty took another step back. He looked like he was about to run off.

"The mul-ti-verse?" Rick said again, pronouncing each syllable slowly. "Infinite realities? Every conceivable reality is its own dimension? Your dimension's Rick is dead. I'm from another dimension."

Morty frowned. "You're like from a parallel universe?"

Rick shrugged. "I guess that's close enough, yeah... But more importantly, are you fuckin' okay?" He stared down at the kid, who was decorated rather thoroughly with bruises and had dirt, dust, dried leaves, and whatever else stuck to his clothing and hair. Though he looked like he'd just been through actual hell, he seemed to have recovered from the terrifying predicament pretty quickly and was being unexpectedly open to Rick's explanation - which was the truth after all, but to an oblivious kid like Morty, it should have seemed like bullshit.

"Y-yeah... I think so." Morty looked down and gripped his forearm with his other hand. "Was it you who cut Luke in half?" He grimaced as he looked back up.

Rick shrugged. "Yeah. Why? Would you rather I didn't?"

"N-no..." Morty raised his hands in defense. "I mean... I don't know... It just seems a little harsh."

"And what he was doing wasn't?" Rick raised his eyebrow.

Morty shrugged and looked down again.

"You want out of this hell hole or what?" Rick wondered.

Morty looked up at him with a frown. "W-what do you mean?"

"I mean, it looks like everyone in your life here fucking sucks. Do you want to come with me instead?" Rick offered.

Morty gulped and stared back with wide eyes, clearly thinking about his options and struggling to trust a single one of them. "I don't know... W-where would we go? Are you really my grandpa? H-how do I know it's really you?"

Rick frowned. He hadn't ever found out what happened to the Rick in this dimension. He just knew the man no longer lived here. Rick hadn't changed much over the past fourteen years, so if Morty ever knew him at all, he should have still recognized the man. "Don't I look just like him? Sound just like him? Probably even act like him?"

Morty stuck out his lower lip and pouted. He shook his head. "I don't know..."

"Well, didn't you know your grandpa? Or at least see a photo of him or something? Come on, Morty... It's me. Who else would I be?" Rick grumbled.

"I don't remember him very well, and I don't have a picture," Morty explained. "He died with the rest of my family when I was three. In a car accident."

Rick nodded in understanding. That explained why Morty was living with a shitty foster family. Rick knew no version of Beth would have left the boy to people like this. Beth was dead in this dimension too.

"I don't remember any of my family much, and kind of only dream about what they look like. I feel like I almost remember them, but I'm not so sure if I'm remembering them right," Morty told him.

"Well," Rick sighed. "I don't have a family either. My version of your mother died as a teenager, so you didn't ever exist where I come from."

"Why did you come find me then?" Morty frowned. "You never knew me in the first place, so why... I don't know if I believe you... M-multi-verse? Dimensions? That sounds kinda crazy..." Morty looked around the area, focusing again on the dead man's body parts lying in pools of blood on the ground. "Are you like a terrorist or something?"

Rick rolled his eyes. "I'm not lying to you, Morty. Your grandpa was a brilliant scientist. Maybe you were just too young to understand or remember it. Lots of Ricks from different dimensions have invented inter-dimensional portal guns just like mine. We've got all sorts of inventions. That's how I found you - with goggles I created to find a dimension with a Morty and without a Rick - so we could meet up and complete each other. And I can travel within a single dimension too - which is what I plan to do with you - we're going on an adventure, Morty! How's that sound? Fun. Right, Morty? To harvest science resources - crystallized electric powder to be more specific. It's in this dimension - just a different galaxy."

Morty looked skeptical as he shook his head softly. "I don't know..." He began taking steps backward. "You sound really crazy..."

"I'll just fuckin' show you then," Rick scoffed. He put in the proper coordinates into his portal gun and fired it in front of himself before looking back over toward Morty, who stared back with wide eyes and took another step back. "Come on," Rick ordered, pacing toward the kid and reaching out to grab him by the wrist.

"No!" Morty screamed, yanking his arm back and flinching away.

"It's just a portal, Morty," Rick grumbled, reaching out with a quicker hand this time and pulling Morty along.

"Rick, no!" Morty pleaded, pulling at his arm desperately as Rick dragged him toward the portal. "I don't want to be cut in half... Please!"

"It's a portal, Morty. It only cut that guy in half because I opened it up literally within him. This one we can just walk through to get where we're going," Rick attempted to explain this in a way that the kid might understand.

Morty tried to drag his feet to keep Rick from pulling him through the portal, but Rick kept going. He had to just show the boy how the portal worked. Otherwise the dumb little moron wouldn't ever step through one. Unfortunately, Rick had made his introduction to this particular method of travel needlessly traumatizing. He saw one of these things cut a man in half. It wasn't entirely surprising that the boy was scared to go near a portal after that.

"Let me go!" Morty screamed.

But Rick didn't listen to the boy's pleas. This was harmless, and the kid would have to learn that fact by experiencing a portal for himself. Rick grabbed onto Morty's arms and held him tight as he dragged him through the portal.

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	8. Chapter 8

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Chapter 8

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The sounds of Morty's own screams echoed in his ears as he could do nothing but allow this strange old man - who claimed to be a version of his grandfather who was somehow still alive - to pull him through the glowing green portal.

Morty kept his eyes squeezed shut as his scream exhausted every ounce of oxygen in his lungs, and he finally had a moment of reflective silence to consider the fact that the portal had indeed not cut him in half. In fact, the portal hadn't hurt him at all. He felt cold now, but wasn't in any more pain than he already had been.

He opened his eyes and shrunk down, looking around. He wasn't in the abandoned construction site anymore. This place didn't even look like the world he knew. It was icy and cold and the sky was purple. Like a deep, unnatural purple... a color the sky most certainly should never, ever be...

"This is Vlymnaarx-9, Morty," Rick explained as he led the way across the icy plain. "There's a component here that's very useful as a power source for almost anything. Crystallized electric powder - I told you about it before. It only exists on this planet, and we're gonna stock up on it."

Morty looked behind himself, noticing the portal was now gone. He had no choice but to follow this man, because apparently they were on another planet now. If Morty didn't go along with Rick, he'd end up lost here. He just had to hope the man wasn't as crazy as he seemed and wouldn't lead him anywhere dangerous.

"It's gonna be in the form of very small crystals, which will look almost like sugar, only a deep purple color. It's important that you don't touch them more than you have to. Prolonged exposure directly to the skin causes temporary paralysis," Rick explained. "But these crystals are the fuckin' best, Morty. I've been trying to procure some for months. I could power my whole lab with such a small amount of this stuff, and if mixed right with ethanol, it could produce one hell of a flash grenade."

Morty frowned. This all sounded very confusing. Rick was saying so many words he didn't know, and claimed that they were now on an entirely different planet out of nowhere, just by walking through a glowing green light-thing...

"I've been caught in my home dimension trying to collect this stuff. I'm banned from the planet there, but it should work out this time," Rick explained.

"Is Vl-" Morty hesitated, trying to remember the name of the planet. Rick had just said it a minute ago. "Um... Vlymnearth.. Uh... Or, uh Vl-Vluto... Um. Is this... Is this place dangerous?"

Rick laughed. "Vlymnaarx-9, and yes, but no. It is, but we're going to stay hidden and it won't be an issue."

"Oh," Morty frowned. "How long is this gonna take?"

"Not very. I know where the stuff is, or roughly, at least. I portaled us right to it. We've just got to find the exact spot. We'll collect it and be heading home within fifteen minutes. You can't spend too much time here thanks to the temperature anyway. I mean, you could, but it's really fuckin' cold. Not good for humans to be out in this for too long."

"W-what about the air?" Morty frowned. "Is it safe to breathe?"

Rick laughed and nodded. "If it weren't, you'd be dead already. It's fine, Morty. I've been to a version of this planet tons of times, Morty, and I still managed to breathe just fine."

Morty nodded and continued following the man. He wondered why the guy had come for him and still wondered if it really was a version of his grandfather. None of this science stuff seemed like it was real before, but that portal certainly was real, and he was definitely on another planet now.

If this guy really was his grandfather, maybe this was exactly what Morty had been dreaming of and wishing for - to have a family member who would care about and protect him. Maybe he was from another dimension, but he was Morty's blood-relative, and unlike his other grandparents, was here with him now.

Morty did wonder why Rick had come for him now of all times though. Morty had been living a pretty rough life for eleven years... Why didn't he come until now? Why didn't he come when Morty's former foster-mother made him sleep outside on the porch when it was cold and raining, or when that same foster-mom's brother used to sit with him on the couch and run his hand up and down Morty's leg, often "accidentally" running his hand too far and letting his fingers graze over the boy's groin. Why hadn't Rick come when his foster-uncle made Morty touch him in the same place?

"Here is it," Rick called out, squatting down over a spot of the ground where the orangeish dirt and white ice faded into dirty slush and then into a sparkling purple. Rick looked up and around, seemingly nervous, before gazing back down at the purple crystals and fishing around in his white lab coat.

Morty stared down at him, wondering why the man wore a lab coat even when he wasn't in a lab. He must have taken his science work very seriously.

"Fill this up," Rick tossed a cloth bag to Morty and shook one open for himself. "Don't touch 'em for too long. Get 'em into the bag fast," he instructed as he started grabbing up handfuls of the tiny crystals and pouring them into the bag.

Morty knelt down and followed Rick's example. The man had said not to let the crystals touch his skin, but then told him to grab them up with his bare hands. None of it made sense.

"I can't believe no one tracked me," Rick laughed, seemingly almost giddy. "I should have talked to the Council of Ricks sooner."

Morty stared at him. He wasn't sure what the guy was talking about, but he did still wonder why this man wanted him, and more specifically why he wanted him now. As much as Morty had been waiting most of his life to have a family member who loved him, he still wasn't sure about this guy.

"Rick?" Morty asked, unsure what exactly he was even going to say next.

"Yeah?" Rick glanced up at him before looking back down at the purple crystals. "Keep filling that up, Morty. I need as much of this shit as possible. It's really valuable."

Morty swallowed and picked up another handful of the sparkling rocks. They felt warm in his hands, which was nice considering how cold it was out here. He picked up another handful, pouring them into the sack and then looking back up at his grandfather. "Why didn't you come sooner?" He finally asked.

Rick frowned and looked back. "I didn't know you existed until yesterday, Morty. When I went to other dimensions, it wasn't to check in on my alternate selves. It was to get science resources in places I'd been banned from in my own dimension - places that threatened death if I returned. I figured other versions of me didn't have a daughter or grandkids either. My Beth died and I just assumed most other Beths would have too in the same accident, and didn't really want to see any versions who didn't die. It'd just make me-" He paused and shook his head. "I never knew other versions of me had grandkids. The Council of Ricks invited me, I finally took them up on the offer and met with them, found they all had a Morty, and decided I should get one too."

Morty frowned. "Get one?" Morty hoped Rick had just worded that wrong. That didn't sound like a concerned grandfather protecting his grandson. That sounded like a man who wanted to use him for some reason or another - to proclaim a grandson of his own who would be more like a possession than a family member.

"Yeah. This other Rick, T-256 told me Mortys make good traveling companions," Rick told him. "The strength of my brain waves and the, uh... not-strength of yours makes a perfect combination for anyone who's tracking the movements of a Rick. It's like a cloaking device. No one's gonna find me with you here."

Morty felt his mouth drop open as he stared at the guy. "W-what?" He frowned. "I'm just a cloaking device for you? You didn't come because you actually wanted to be with me? For us to be a family?" He felt tears sting in his eyes but wasn't going to give this man the satisfaction of seeing them fall.

"Well..." Rick shrugged. "I mean, that, and you're my grandson." He offered an insincere smile. "I- you know... uh... wanted to get to know you as a person and whatever."

Glaring up at Rick, Morty picked up the sack of crystals and squeezed it in his hand, contemplating either throwing it at Rick's face or dumping it out.

"Don't get all pissy, Morty," Rick scoffed. "I saved you from a rapist. Cut the guy in half... What more do you want?"

Morty felt his lower lip trembling slightly. He wanted a family. Of course he didn't want Luke to force himself on him. He was glad Rick had shown up when he did, but he'd hoped the man was there because he cared that Morty was in danger, not because he wanted to use Morty to collect science resources.

"We're not the fuckin' Brady Bunch, Morty. You're gonna have to take what you can get. It's me, or the foster-brother who throws shit at the back of your head and calls you a fag... And whichever of your parents beat you hard enough to make welts all over your back."

Frowning, Morty tugged his shirt down, even though it was already down. When had Rick seen those? The man stared back at him with his eyebrow risen. He didn't look prepared to try to convince Morty that the boy was here for any other reason than to be used. It seemed Rick was telling him that if Morty stayed with the man, Rick wouldn't hurt him, but he wouldn't love or care about him either. It would be like living with a robot.

"F-fine, Rick," Morty stammered, gripping the bag of crystals tightly in his hand. If Rick didn't care about him, Morty didn't care either, and was certainly not going to stand around letting the man use him. So he turned away from the old man and started walking away.

"Morty, don't be like that." Rick sighed, but didn't seem to be making any move to follow the kid. He continued piling crystals into his bag instead. "If you get too far away the authorities are gonna notice me. I'm taking you away from abusive assholes and rapists... That's seriously not good enough for you?"

"No! It isn't!" Morty shouted back and kept walking, quickening his pace and even starting to run. He glanced over his shoulder to find that Rick wasn't following him. He only cared about about filling up the bag with crystals.

"Whatever, you dumb little shit. You're gonna get yourself killed out there, but be my fucking guest," Rick yelled back.

Morty shook his head and continued running. In this moment, he honestly felt like he'd rather die than let this guy use him and pretend it was for anyone other than himself.

"You don't have to run!" Rick shouted, his voice lower in volume now since Morty had created a fair bit of distance between them.

Morty shook his head and kept going. He didn't want anything to do with this man.

"I'm not chasing you, you idiot!" Rick called after him.

Morty looked over his shoulder again, noting that Rick was in fact not lying. He wasn't even trying to stop Morty from going. It only served to prove Morty was right. Rick didn't care about him. He wanted to use him. He hadn't saved Morty to make the boy's life easier. He'd done so to make his own life easier.

But Morty wasn't falling for it. If his grandpa didn't want to be in his life for a good reason, he didn't need to be here at all. Morty had survived this long without the man, and sure didn't need him now.

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	9. Chapter 9

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Chapter 9

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Morty felt like he'd been running for quite a while by the time he started to doubt his decision to leave Rick's company. For some reason he hadn't really thought beyond getting away from Rick, and now wasn't really sure where to go. It wasn't like he could go back the way he came. He'd come through a magic glowing oval, which was gone now.

Swallowing, Morty slowed his pace and finally started looking around at his surroundings. Until now, he'd been so focused on running and making sure to create a distance between him and Rick that he hadn't even considered that he was running aimlessly. This place consisted mostly of frozen icy plains, with a few large rocks or small, half-dead looking plants here and there. There weren't any buildings within sight. No houses. No businesses... There wasn't even a forest or lake or anything. Nothing to eat or drink - nowhere warm to sleep... If he didn't find someone to take him home, he was going to die here.

With a frown, Morty turned and looked back the way he had come. Rick wasn't following him. In fact, Morty couldn't see the man at all. He'd successfully put distance between them and now had no idea where Rick was. Maybe the old man had even created another portal and left...

Morty turned back around and hugged his arms around himself. It was really cold here. He wondered if he should go back and find Rick, at least long enough to ask the man to return him to Earth. Although his life at home was awful, he would at least survive it. He couldn't live in a frozen wasteland...

He bit his lower lip as he turned again. Was that even the way he'd come? Everything looked the same in all directions. It was just ice and non-descript rocks and small plants. He took a step forward, pausing when he felt like maybe it wasn't the way he intended to go. He made a quarter turn and started going that way instead, picking up his pace when he wasn't sure if he recognized any particular rocks or plants.

He walked and walked until he noticed the ground becoming more uneven and rocky. He certainly hadn't been here before. He would have remembered the different terrain. He frowned and looked back. He was so lost. Maybe continuing this way would be good though - he could find other people perhaps, if he got to a spot that wasn't just ice.

He walked on and on, feeling more and more tired and more and more cold. By this point, he had to actually climb down the sloping ground, taking care not to slide or trip, as the incline was becoming somewhat steep.

When he was on semi-level ground again, he looked over the expanse of half-rocky, half-icy land ahead of him. There was nothing there... What if no life besides those tiny plants even lived on this planet? He could walk forever and never find anything...

He started to turn back around, raising his eyebrows when he noticed the entrance to a small cave. Maybe that would be warmer at least...

Morty made his way into the cave, looking around. It wasn't very big, but was big enough to fit himself comfortably inside with room to spare. He was still cold though...

Morty set the sack of crystallized electric powder down on the ground as he sat down in front of it. It felt somewhat warm in his hands, but besides for being a small comfort, he wasn't really sure how to use it, or if it even could be useful to him here in the middle of nowhere. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, hoping he had something there that could help him in some way.

He found he had a cheap cell-phone his foster-parents had made him carry around with him - mostly so they could text him while he was at school to inform him he needed to run a certain errand or get home NOW before they got mad. (By the time he got any text like that, however, they were already mad enough to make Morty contemplate staying gone even longer to put off punishment.)

He held the phone in his hands, wondering who he should try to call. It wasn't like the phone was going to reach Earth anyway, but if it did, he wanted to call someone who would be willing to do whatever it took to help him get home.

He stared at his list of contacts. Dad, Mom, Shawn, Sydney - a girl from school he thought was cute, whose number he finally got when they worked on the same group project - because everyone in the group exchanged numbers. He'd only kept hers, but was afraid to text or call for fear of embarrassing himself... He couldn't text her now - not after he never texted her up until this point. It wasn't like she'd be able to help him anyway. Shawn certainly wouldn't help him. His foster-parents might - if only so they could keep getting money for him being in their 'care.'

He hesitated, wondering if it would be safer to call his foster-mother or foster-father. His father was probably at work, but his mother seemed to get much more frustrated with him much faster than his father did. Her punishments weren't always as violent as his, but earning one was easier.

Morty dialed his foster-father's phone number, unsure if he really wanted the call to go through or not. He put the phone up to his ear. There wasn't even a ringing tone. He looked down at the screen and pressed the call button again. Nothing happened.

Exhaling a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, Morty began composing a text with trembling fingers instead:

"Trappd on frzn plnet. Dont rmembr its name. Can u tell police to track my fone?"

He hovered over the send button. Maybe he shouldn't even try to send it... How would his father even begin to explain this to the police? And the police couldn't track a phone into space. Morty didn't even know how far from Earth he was right now.

But he was kind of running out of options. He didn't know who else to ask for help, so he hit send and stared down at the screen, which read "sending..." He stared for another minute. It still just said "sending..." Nothing was happening. After a few more moments, it read "send failed."

Morty frowned and stuffed the phone back into his pocket. He stared at the sack of crystals in front of him. Maybe he could do something with them. Rick had said they were powerful. Morty certainly wasn't a scientist though. He wouldn't even know where to start...

He poured them onto the ground, feeling the heat radiating off of them. He wondered why they were so warm when nothing else around here was. It was nice though. Maybe he wouldn't freeze to death at least.

Morty put his hands gently against the pile of stones. They didn't look like anything special, but they did make his fingers start to tingle as they warmed up his hands. He took off his shoes and socks and put his feet on the stones as well. His previously numb toes began to tingle as well as they warmed up too.

Exhaling and leaning back against the cave's wall, Morty stared up at the ceiling and dug his feet into the stones. He wished he'd have filled up the bag even more and coated the whole cave with the stuff. It seemed to be the only warm thing on the planet.

He bent forward and scooped up some of the stones in his hands and then leaned back again, so he could keep his hands warm too. Now what was he supposed to do?

He supposed he could wait for his hands and feet to feel completely warm and then head out again - see if he could find anyone... He could even stuff his pants pockets with the stones so he could warm his hands up while he walked. He considered putting some in his shoes too, but even if they were warm, he didn't want to walk around having to step on rocks the whole time.

Morty shoved half of the crystals he was holding into each of his jeans pockets and then squeezed his hands inside. It was even warmer now.

Sighing, Morty laid his head back against the rock-wall of the cave. He was starting to feel really tired. His arms and legs were at least. They felt heavy.

He exhaled and blinked a few times. His eyes weren't tired. He didn't feel like he wanted to go to sleep. His body just felt like it wasn't sure if it could go on, like if he got up right now and tried to walk, maybe it wouldn't work...

Morty stared down at his feet and wiggled his toes under the purple crystals. Even that felt like it took way too much energy. He frowned, rubbing one of the many stones in his pocket between his thumb and fingers. Why did he feel so exhausted all of a sudden? Maybe all the walking and running was finally weighing on him now that he'd stopped.

With a small gasp, Morty looked down at his left hand stuck in his pocket as another thought entered his head. Rick had told him not to touch the stones for too long. He'd said something bad might happen... What was it he'd said? Morty couldn't remember... Even so, he pulled his hands out of his pockets and moved his feet away from the pile on the ground.

He crawled backwards away from the stones, but his limbs felt so heavy. He wasn't sure if he could make it much further back into the cave... He felt his breaths quickening and his lip trembling as he stared back at the stones. What was happening?

He tried to hold himself up with his hands, but his arms were shaking now. Morty whimpered as he allowed himself to collapse against the ground. He couldn't move... He was still awake, and didn't even feel tired, but he couldn't move...

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	10. Chapter 10

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Chapter 10

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As Rick finished filling up his second sack of stones, he looked up and glanced in the direction Morty had gone. He couldn't even see the kid anymore. The poor little idiot was probably so fucking lost by now.

Exhaling, Rick tied the two sacks closed and started walking in the direction he'd last seen Morty. He should have put a tracking device on the kid. He was tempted to just leave and try a different Morty. There were plenty without Ricks of their own. Some of them may have even been happy to join Rick on his adventures. This particular Morty was a little whiner, and for an abused kid whose life completely fucking sucked, he sure was demanding of Rick. If the boy thought Rick was going to be the kind of grandfather from 1960's television shows, he had another thing coming.

Rick barely ever cared about anyone, and if Morty weren't his blood relative, Rick wouldn't have cared about him either. He had no reason to. He didn't even know this kid or any version of him. The only tiny part of him that gave two shits about this little dipshit cared only because Morty was an extension of Rick. In a tiny little way, Morty was Rick's, and Rick didn't like the thought of anything bad happening to anyone who was biologically his. He couldn't take care of every Morty in every dimension ever, but he'd kind of made an unspoken commitment to this one, and would feel like a failure if he let the kid stay lost here forever.

He continued walking, wondering if he was even going in the right direction still. This part of the planet was pretty flat. How far had the dumb kid gone?

Rick fished around in his lab coat for a device he'd invented that would show heat signatures that were present in the past two hours. It was the next best thing to a tracking device. Morty hadn't been gone for that long and there were no other warm-blooded animals living above ground around here. Any heat signature the device detected would have to be Morty.

He pointed the device in front of himself and looked at the screen. Sure enough, a tiny little Morty-sized blob showed up on the screen in the form of a long, straight path forward.

Rick followed it for a while until the screen showed that Morty had turned off to the side. Rick turned as well, trekking down a more rocky area, practically stumbling down the sloping ground.

He looked at his screen again, noticing Morty had turned at the bottom of the slope. The heat signature disappeared into a small cave.

Rick rolled his eyes and put his invention back into his coat. What a little idiot... What had he thought he was going to do? Live in a tiny cave in the fucking tundra for the rest of his life? There wasn't even vegetation or animal life around here and the water was all frozen. What did he think he was going to eat and drink?

"Morty," Rick called out in a somewhat sarcastic tone. "I'll take you back home if you want, you dumb little shit. Unless you want to die here."

He ducked down into the cave and frowned as he noticed the boy lying on the ground near the cave's stone wall. Morty was sniffing back tears and the purple C.E.P. he had collected was in a messy pile on the ground several feet away from him.

"I can't-" Morty cut himself off with a tiny sob. "I-I can't m-move, Rick..." he stuttered between shaking breaths.

Rick shook his head and sighed loudly. "I told you not to touch them for that long, Morty... I specifically said not to, twice."

"I f-forgot..." Morty sniffed again. "Am I gonna be like this forever?"

"No," Rick exhaled and made his way over toward the boy. He was lying at a sort of strange angle, almost like he hadn't realized what was happening until it was too late and had just fallen down. "It's only temporary. I told you that before. I'd guess you'll slowly start coming around in a couple hours."

Morty sniffed back more tears. "C-can you take me home?"

Rick stared down at him. "Are you fucking serious? You'd rather go back to those people than stay with me?"

Morty blinked. "You only want to use me. You don't care about me. You just want me so you can get what you want. You don't care about what I need. I want to be with a family who loves me..." His voice was so small, and he sounded so vulnerable, like he was saying something out loud that he'd always wanted to say but never had.

Rick frowned as he continued looking down at the boy, who was shivering as he lay limply on the ground. He didn't love this kid, and wouldn't have wanted to say he did even if he honestly did... He couldn't love someone he didn't know... But he did care about him, on a pretty basic level. He didn't want his grandson to be in pain or distress, but only because the boy was his... not because he cared about him as a person. He didn't know him well enough to have formed that kind of bond. While it was true the kid possessed a sort of pathetic vulnerability that seemed to draw out Rick's protective side, it wasn't because Rick loved him. He just felt bad for him, and it mattered because he wasn't just someone's grandson. He was Rick's.

"You want a family who loves you..." Rick repeated, kneeling down and putting his hands on Morty, under his arms and dragging him up a bit off the ground. He held one hand on Morty's shoulder and pulled the boy's t-shirt up over his back and chest, so Morty would know for a fact that Rick had seen the welts and bruises on his skin. "Like the family who did this?"

Morty whimpered and trembled, but didn't (and couldn't) move to shove Rick's hands away.

Rick frowned when he noticed bruises on Morty's stomach as well. Then he looked up toward the boy's face, nodding toward the bruises on his jaw and cheek as well. "And those..."

Morty sniffed and blinked back tears, but didn't say anything more.

"I don't know you, kid. My grandson was never born. He never existed. I didn't already know a version of you in my own dimension. I never had the chance to get attached to one of you, and if I did, it wouldn't have been you anyway. You and I don't fucking know each other. I'm not gonna lie to you and say I love you, because I don't," Rick told him. It sounded harsh, but Rick didn't like to bullshit people about emotions. He hardly had any, and the ones he did have were heavily guarded.

"I know you don't," Morty told him in a weak, shaking voice. It seemed speaking was difficult for him. The paralysis allowed him to speak still, but only barely. Everything he said was in a tiny whisper, often with too long spaces between certain words. "And that's why I just want to go home. I'll wait until I can move out, until I can start a family of my own. If I can't be with someone who actually cares about me, I'll wait until I find someone who does. I don't need you, Rick."

Rick raised his eyebrow. "Yes you do. I rescued you from a rapist. I'm your only way home. You need me."

"No I don't." Morty frowned slightly. "I did fine without you for fourteen years. I can go another four, until I'm old enough to move out."

"You don't realize how much better things would be with me, Morty." Rick shook his head as he propped Morty up against the wall and shrugged out of his lab coat. He put the garment around Morty's shoulders and wrapped it securely around the boy's trembling body. "If your parents hit you like that, that hard, hard enough to make those awful welts... They'll do it again, Morty. That shit's not a one-time thing."

Morty looked down and frowned. "I know it's not. No one knows that better than me. These people have been being mean to me since the day I moved in. My whole life has been miserable... Which is why I'm fine going back. I know how to handle it. I don't need to settle for someone like you. I can just ride out the storm and wait for something good instead of stepping out of one nightmare and into another."

"What do they do to you, Morty?" Rick frowned.

"You don't care," Morty scoffed. "Don't pretend like you do."

Rick raised his eyebrow and stared down at the kid. "I don't pretend to care about people, Morty. With most people, I couldn't give a fuck if they live or die. I came after you for a reason."

"Yeah, because you want to use me for your stupid science stuff." Morty frowned. "If you cared about me, you would have wanted to find me sooner. You would have come and gotten me purely to get me away from them instead of waiting until you needed a cloaking device to collect your dumb paralyzing rocks. You would have asked if Luke hurt me and made sure he didn't do anything before you got there."

"I asked you if you were alright!" Rick frowned. He actually had... In that moment, he honestly was worried about the kid and had asked if he was okay, and at that point, he'd never even talked to this kid before, had nothing invested in him, no reason to care if he was hurt.

"You didn't ask what he did. I said I was okay, and you just believed me and didn't even try to get a better answer." Morty averted his eyes.

"A better answer?" Rick exhaled and rolled his eyes. "What the fuck do you mean? I got an answer - the one you fucking gave me. I didn't know I was supposed to ask everything twice. You said you were fine. Why wouldn't I believe your answer?"

"I am fine..." Morty frowned. "But you didn't even ask what happened."

"I figured you didn't want to talk about it, and there was nothing I could do to take back whatever happened, Morty, so I didn't want to pry. You didn't even know who I was. Why would I expect you to tell a stranger something so personal? But if you want to tell me, I'll listen," Rick suggested. "And I'm not asking to try to trick you. Like I said, I don't do things I don't want to do. I honestly do want to know that you're alright. I wouldn't ask otherwise."

Morty continued looking away and was silent for a few moments. Maybe he didn't want to tell Rick after all. Rick certainly wouldn't have wanted to discuss such things with someone he didn't even know. Rick wouldn't have even wanted to talk about trauma like that with someone he did know.

Rick didn't look away as Morty's eyes remained fixed on the cave's floor. The boy was still shivering. "Come here," Rick offered, reaching out and pulling Morty up into his lap, wrapping his arms around the kid's shoulders and hugging him closer.

Morty remained quiet and still - so still in fact that Rick wasn't sure he was even breathing anymore. Rick leaned back slightly and looked at the kid's eyes. They were wide and maybe even fearful. Rick narrowed his eyes as he stared into Morty's which shone in the semi-darkness of the cave. Were those tears in his eyes? Was his bottom lip trembling because he was cold or because he was holding back tears? "You okay, Morty?" he wondered.

"Y-yeah," Morty spoke in a small, uncertain voice, but he still looked scared and nervous. His voice had even been shaky as though he was seconds away from crying.

It had been Rick's intention to warm the kid up through body heat - it was only logical that for someone who was cold to the point of visibly shivering, a second person's body heat could remedy that. But it didn't seem to be working. If anything, the boy was trembling more now. Rick frowned and scrutinized Morty's physical appearance and reaction to Rick's embrace. He was still shaking, breathing in short, quick breaths, and staring around the cave like a frightened animal looking for a way out.

"Is this okay?" Rick finally asked. He had figured Morty would be alright with this gesture. It was harmless, and the boy was so cold he was visibly shaking... Morty couldn't warm himself up by hugging his arms around himself or curling up because he couldn't move. Rick could help him, so he figured he would. But maybe he shouldn't have...

"I-" Morty hesitated, still shaking and seemingly choosing his words very carefully. "I don't... I don't know... What... What are you doing? W-why did you pick me up? You're not going to..." He paused, grimacing and swallowing nervously. "One of my foster moms had a brother... wh-who used to... Well... used to m-make me sit on his lap and-" He cut himself off as another shiver shook through his body.

"I'm just keeping you warm," Rick told him with a frown. "I'll put you back down if you want. Just say the word."

He loosened his grip slightly, hoping Morty wasn't taking this gesture as anything more than what Rick had intended. Morty's story about his former foster-mom's brother was disturbing, no matter how short and vague. Rick probably should have asked Morty's permission before grabbing him up like that. He hadn't expected the gesture to possibly be interpreted as a threat or as something sick and twisted. That, and Morty wasn't a little kid. He was small, and frankly somewhat adorable, but he was a teenager, and Rick wasn't really treating him like one.

"N-no... It's okay," Morty answered. "I am cold... and this is helping. J-just don't... um-"

"I won't," Rick interrupted, not allowing him to finish that request. He kind of didn't want to know what Morty's previous foster family had done to him. It sounded horrible and Rick didn't want the specifics to weigh on his mind. He couldn't do anything about it. He could just keep the kid safe from such things from here on out.

Morty seemed to relax a bit as his shaking lessened and he lay still in Rick's arms. "Thank you, Rick," the boy spoke up in a small voice.

"Uh... sure." Rick responded with a frown. "Let me know if you want me to back off. I don't want to force you to sit with me. If it makes you uncomfortable-"

"No," Morty interrupted. "I want to stay like this. It's okay. I was just worried that you'd... T-that you'd be l-like Uncle Mark... but you're not. There's two reasons to be nice to someone - b-because you care about them, or because y-you want something from them. M-maybe you just want me for your science stuff... b-but you don't have to keep me warm. You could still make me go with you anyway. You're being nice."

"Oh..." Rick frowned. "Well, I don't know about that. It's just that you're a kid. I can't just let you freeze to death out here."

Morty offered a weak smile and blinked slowly. He seemed so much more content now. It was strange to Rick how quickly Morty had decided to trust him. The boy had gone from seemingly being afraid that the man would hurt him and feeling used and cheated, to relaxing in his arms and accusing Rick of caring about him. All within a couple minutes.

"I can take you home now if you want," Rick offered. "We can wait this thing out for a little bit someplace warmer and then I can take you back home, or somewhere else... Whatever you want. I don't think you should go back to those people, but since you won't even tell me what they did, and you're old enough to make your own choices anyway, I guess it's not my business. And even if you don't want to stay with me, I'll still help you get someplace better than where you've been staying if you want me to."

Morty swallowed. "C-can we just stay like this for a minute?" he asked.

Rick shrugged. "I guess..." This kid was weird as fuck.

"Good," Morty's small voice breathed as his head lolled slightly, falling against Rick's chest.

Rick frowned and swallowed nervously as he looked down at the top of Morty's head and pulled the boy closer as his shivering seemed to be dying down.

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	11. Chapter 11

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Chapter 11

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As Morty lay still and silent against Rick's chest, snuggled down in the man's lab coat, he felt like he was beginning to regain a very small amount of feeling in the tips of his toes and fingers.

He wasn't sure anymore if he wanted to go back home at all. Rick had pretty much flat-out told him that he didn't love Morty, but then, should Morty have really expected him to? Maybe that was something that could only develop organically over time. After all, Morty couldn't say he loved Rick either. They didn't know each other... Morty loved the idea of Rick, the concept of a grandfather who would take care of him and always have his back, but he couldn't say it was surprising that he wouldn't have an immediate strong bond with a man he'd never met.

Rick did seem to show some degree of care toward the boy. Maybe it wasn't always obvious, and maybe it happened to be easily confused with instances of the man wanting Morty around to use him, but Morty was starting to honestly believe there might be a degree of genuine care for his well being in there somewhere. Rick had given Morty his coat when Morty shivered. He'd picked him up and held him when the boy was still visibly cold. He'd even offered to listen if Morty wanted to talk about his recent traumas. That certainly didn't sound like someone who didn't care at all...

With his ear up against Rick's chest as the man hugged him close, Morty listened to his grandfather's heart beating. He'd never been this physically close to anyone and actually wanted to remain there - not since he was old enough to remember anyway. Most people didn't touch him in any way unless they were trying to be hurtful or predatory. Rick seemed to want neither of those things. His hands didn't wander where they weren't supposed to be and his touch wasn't painful. He was being gentle and comforting and wasn't taking advantage of the fact that Morty could barely move. Morty shuddered to think what someone like Luke would have done to him if they found him in this situation, paralyzed, unable to fight back in the slightest...

Morty couldn't really turn his head to look up at the man, so he continued listening to his heart and feeling the gentle rising and falling of Rick's chest instead.

Earlier, when Rick had asked what Morty's foster parents had done to him, Morty didn't answer, because he didn't believe the man really cared, but maybe he did. Maybe when he said he didn't ask more questions about Luke's assault on him because he figured Morty didn't want to talk about it, he was being honest then too. The things that had happened to Morty during his life did bother him, and he did keep quiet about them to most people, but maybe Rick didn't have to be included among the massive list of 'most people.' Maybe Rick really would be willing to listen to Morty talk about his feelings and not make fun of him or brush him off.

Morty stared at the cave's wall and continued listening to Rick's rhythmic heart. Now that he was here with Rick, in the man's safe embrace, being held in an innocent, caring way, everything that his foster-families and Shawn's friends had done to him seemed even worse. His foster-parents were supposed to take care of him. They were supposed to make him feel how Rick was making him feel, warm, safe, and secure. His foster-brother should have stood up to his bullies and tormentors, not deliver him right to them and be an accomplice to their assaults against him.

He thought about all the things his family had done to him or allowed to be done to him. He thought about how awful Luke was, and about how Shawn most certainly knew the man was awful, and not only didn't stop him, but actually kidnapped and delivered Morty right to him.

Even so, Morty realized he was lucky too. Things could have been worse, and seemed to have been escalating before Rick's arrival. Luke would have taken things much further if Rick hadn't shown up, and even if Morty had escaped that time only having to perform oral sex and nothing more, there would have probably been a next time...

His foster-father was escalating too, hitting him over and over again, very hard with his belt for the first time ever after years of punishing him in a way that was more often than not more cold and lonely than it was physically painful. On the semi-rare occasion that his foster-father hit him before the belt incident, it was quicker and less painful - just once across the face, or if he was really angry, five or ten hard, open-handed spankings against his backside. He even made Morty pull down his pants for those - probably more to make him feel humiliated than to hurt him - though it did hurt quite a bit too...

If Rick hadn't come when he did, maybe all these horrible, traumatizing things would have gotten even worse. Maybe Luke's sexual assaults would have progressed into more painful, more humiliating, more demeaning. Maybe his mother would have made him stand in the corner more often, for longer, and maybe keeping his underwear on wouldn't have been an option anymore. Maybe his foster-father would have used the belt more often, and eventually graduated to hurting him even worse for smaller crimes.

Things could have definitely been worse, and maybe if he hadn't gotten out when he did, they would have been...

"No one actually raped me," Morty spoke out loud before he could think better of it.

Rick's breaths stopped for a second and his heartbeat seemed to quicken very slightly. "What?" He spoke with a frown in his voice.

"Nobody actually raped me," Morty said again, feeling his cheeks growing red just from saying the word. He hadn't even planned on blurting that out, but he had to fully explain now that he'd started. "Luke was going to rape me. He said if I agreed to, um... t-to use my mouth instead, he wouldn't... He said if I'd agree to do it that way, he wouldn't rape me."

"That would have still been rape," Rick said simply.

"I mean, he said I could do it that way instead and then he wouldn't do the other thing..." Morty explained. "And I was going to, because I was more scared of the alternative. B-but he didn't do either. You showed up before he could."

"Well, that's good..." Rick sounded like he was uncomfortable listening to Morty's words.

"That's why my pants were pulled down when you found me, because he was gonna... but he didn't. He made me keep them down and said I could put them back on if-" He hesitated, swallowing as he remembered and felt a little nauseated. "If... He said I could put them back on if I did a good job with... um... my mouth... They were pulled down because he was really, really close to doing that, before I agreed to-" he cut himself off, not wanting to say these things out loud. "He tried to do the same thing yesterday, and a couple times before, but always in town where someone found him and scared him off just in time..."

"They didn't report him to the fuckin' police?" Rick's voice sounded like he was frowning again.

"No," Morty answered in a small voice. "Maybe they thought I was willing and they just wanted us not doing that out in the open." He would have shrugged if his arms weren't paralyzed.

"Do you think you looked like you were enjoying it?" Rick wondered, sounding almost angry now. "People walked in on that and just told you guys to leave?"

Morty swallowed. "I usually screamed and cried and tried to fight back," he admitted. "Most people don't care about anyone but themselves. They cared that we were causing a commotion. They didn't care that he was hurting me. They just didn't want him to do it there."

Morty could feel Rick shaking his head.

"What my parents did wasn't ever really that bad, I guess," Morty went on. "Not like what Luke did. Luke was the scariest person I've ever met."

"And what was it that your parents did?" Rick wondered.

Morty closed his eyes and exhaled. He wiggled his toes and fingers very slightly, happy that feeling was slowly but surely coming back to his limbs.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Rick reminded him when Morty remained silent.

"No... I want to tell you," Morty disagreed. "I've been wanting to tell someone for a long time. I just-" He paused and swallowed. "I didn't want to tell anyone who wouldn't care or wouldn't do anything about it... or who'd try to help and make things worse. Last time I told someone what one of my foster-families were like, I just got sent to a worse family."

"Well, I won't send you anywhere. We can go to a whole different fuckin' dimension even. No one will even come looking for you," Rick told him.

Morty smiled slightly, but then frowned as he thought about how he would explain the abuse he'd suffered. Maybe he was being dramatic. Lots of kids got punished for doing things wrong, and Morty didn't really have friends to talk to about how their parents were. His only view at what he assumed was normalcy was what he saw on television. Maybe tv made everyone look nicer than real people.

"What'd they do?" Rick asked again.

Inhaling, Morty closed his eyes and began to explain. "My foster-brother just pushed me around a lot, mostly. Yelled at me, called me names. Probably pretty normal brother stuff. Oh, and he locked me in his car this morning and left me with his friend Luke. I think he knew what Luke was gonna do too. I begged him not to leave..."

Rick shook his head. "That's not normal brother stuff, Morty. God damn."

Morty tried to shrug and went on. "My mom always got mad at me and made me stand in the corner all night. She'd set alarms during the night and get up to check and make sure I was still there, still standing, and not asleep. And it was cold and she made me stand there without clothes."

"Son of a bitch, Morty. What a fucking cunt," Rick grumbled.

"It wasn't that bad though. I mean, she didn't hit me or touch me inappropriately or anything. And I usually got to keep on my underwear," Morty explained.

"Usually?" Rick scoffed. "Holy shit, Morty... That's not right. You should have told your social worker or a teacher, or someone... anyone..."

Morty frowned. "People didn't seem to care, Rick. I had bruises on me at school almost every day. No one cared. Mostly they were under my clothes, but I had to change for P.E. and I know the gym teacher saw them and he didn't say anything. I noticed him staring one day, but he looked away when he noticed that I saw him, and he never mentioned it or asked about it."

"He saw those welts and didn't do anything about it?" Rick's voice sounded almost sad.

"Well, not those ones. Other ones that weren't as bad. Dad only hit me like that the one time," Morty answered. "And that was last night. I didn't go to school today, so no one had a chance to see them. Maybe if they had they would have said something. Maybe that would have been a big enough reason for someone to finally step in."

"Why did he do that to you? Was it a punishment, or was he just hurting you for fun?" Rick frowned.

"It was a punishment. He says he doesn't like doing it, but he had to. I didn't do the dishes... because I had detention because Shawn drove to school without me and Luke and his friends attacked me when I was trying to walk to school so I was late. Dad usually just makes me sleep in the basement, which isn't good, but it's not that bad... But Mom had already punished me too, so I was only in my underwear, and Dad wouldn't let me get dressed before the basement. He also followed me down there and hit me with his belt. He said I wasn't learning well enough being punished the other way," Morty explained.

"Well, you won't have to worry about any of that anymore," Rick explained. "You can stay with me, and I don't punish people for shit. Not like that."

"Really?" Morty frowned. "What if I didn't help around the house or talked back or called you Grandpa even though you're not really my grandpa?"

"There's not that much to do around the house, Morty, but I'd hope you'd just help when you can. I don't set fuckin' deadlines though, and I'm more into psychological punishments than physical ones. I'd just make whatever chore you're supposed to be doing disappear in a really inconvenient way. Like if you wouldn't do the dishes, we wouldn't have dishes anymore, and I'd order us food, and yours would be soup."

Morty laughed. That was kind of funny. It would be an annoying punishment, but wouldn't be scary or painful or humiliating. It was more sarcastic than hurtful and cruel.

"And if you talked back to me, well, fuck, Morty... I'd just talk back to you too, only better. No one's got a way with words like I do. If you ever challenge me verbally, I'll win. You'll walk away feeling like a dipshit. I guarantee it," Rick went on. "And you can call me Grandpa if you want, but it's fuckin' weird."

"I don't have to call you that. You're right. It would be weird." Morty agreed. He had only just met the man... But he couldn't promise he wouldn't want to call the man 'Grandpa' eventually though. He always started calling his foster-parents Mom and Dad too, even though most of the time they really didn't like it.

Rick shrugged. "You getting any feeling back yet? Can you move at all?"

Morty looked down at his hands, wiggling his fingers a bit. He kind of liked sitting here with Rick though, being hugged for once. "Not really," he answered.

Rick pulled back and looked down at him with a concerned frown. "Not at all?" He wondered. "It's supposed to be temporary... I can take you back to my lab and try to figure something out-"

"No!" Morty interrupted. The last thing he wanted was to be experimented on... "I mean... I can feel my fingers and toes a little." He wiggled them to show Rick. "See?"

"Oh." Rick exhaled and closed his eyes for a moment. "Well, that's good."

"Can we stay here for a little while longer though?" Morty asked.

"Well... I mean..." Rick hesitated. "Uh, I guess... But I could take you someplace warmer. You don't have to go home. You don't ever have to go back there."

"But can we just stay here for a minute more?" Morty wondered as he leaned against Rick's chest and enjoyed the man's arms around his shoulders. He was beginning to feel pretty tired, probably because he'd spent the previous night in the cold basement and could barely sleep back then thanks to the chill air and the fear that his foster father or foster brother might come down and do something cruel. Now that he felt warmer and safer, he felt like he could drift off without fear of something happening to him before he could wake up and prevent it.

"Aren't you cold, Morty?" Rick wondered.

Morty shook his head very slightly, closed his eyes, and yawned. "Not anymore..."

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	12. Chapter 12

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Chapter 12

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As carefully as he could, Rick felt around in his lab coat which was wrapped rather securely around Morty's body. Since the boy was so small, the coat enveloped him rather thoroughly, but Rick had forgotten to take his portal gun out of it before handing it over, and he kind of wanted to get out of here sooner rather than later.

Morty seemed to have been regaining feeling in his limbs - he'd wiggled his fingers and toes earlier, and though he seemed to be asleep now, he occasionally twitched slightly, shifted, or snuggled closer against Rick's chest. Now seemed as good a time as any to get the hell out of here and go home - to Rick's home, which would be Morty's now too.

Even though the kid appeared to want to stay here in this cave forever, Rick didn't. Maybe Morty was comfortable in this exact moment and feared leaving it, but he needed to move on to the next thing, and what better time for Rick to facilitate that than when the boy was asleep and couldn't argue against it?

Rick continued feeling around in his coat, trying to find a route in to the portal gun, whose shape he could see through the garment. The coat was somewhat twisted and tangled, so while he could see where the gun was, he couldn't quite figure out where to slide his hand in to reach it.

He frowned when he noticed Morty whimpering softly and shrinking away from his touch in his sleep.

Exhaling, Rick retracted his hand and stared down at the kid. He had to get his portal gun... But after Morty's explanation of how various people in his life had mistreated him, Rick felt guilty pawing around and potentially scaring the boy, even if he was asleep, and even if Rick's gestures were in no way anything but completely innocent.

"I need something out of my coat, Morty," Rick spoke in a soft voice as he carefully put his hand back toward what looked like it might be a route toward the gun. He slowly pushed his hand under the material.

Rick frowned when he felt Morty's hand pull into a loose fist, gripping the front of the man's shirt as a soft, shaking noise made its way out of his mouth.

Rick shook his head slightly. He needed to just quickly get the portal gun out and be done with this. He pulled the coat open slightly, reaching in quickly and grabbing the gun as Morty whimpered again.

"Sorry, kid." Rick frowned and pulled the coat more snugly around Morty's body again. "You're okay. I wasn't doing anything bad. We're going home..."

Still holding onto Morty securely with one arm, Rick set the portal gun down on his knee and input the coordinates to lead him back to his apartment in his own dimension. He then shot the gun toward the ground right next to him, kicked his two bags of C.E.P. through, held onto Morty tightly, and hopped down into the portal.

Rick exhaled as he was finally home after what had turned into a rather rough and long day. He had portaled himself and Morty into his lab, which was set up in his apartment's kitchen. He really needed to work out someplace bigger to live - both because he was always short on space for working on his science and because the size of his family had just doubled. Rick kicked the sacks of crystals lightly to the side and then carried Morty toward his bed room.

The apartment Rick presently lived in wasn't very big. There was only one bedroom, and for a very long time, he only lived with himself, so he had no need for additional space. He wondered if Morty would mind sharing a room for the time being.

Carefully, Rick placed Morty onto the top of his bed and stared down at him. Morty was still wrapped up in Rick's coat, and trying to untangle him from it seemed like it would be more trouble than it was worth, so Rick left it for now. Rick was tired and didn't really want to work on any of his projects at the moment anyway, so he didn't need the coat or anything in it.

Rick practically dragged his feet as he made his way out of the room and toward a linen closet near the bedroom. He grabbed a spare pillow and blanket for himself and another blanket for Morty before making his way back into the room. He tossed his blanket and pillow onto the floor and draped the other blanket over his grandson.

Though he was exhausted by this point, Rick took another moment to stare down at his new companion and family member. Back when Beth died, Rick felt like he had nothing left but science. He stopped feeling like family was even a possibility in his life and settled for the fact that science was the only thing he was ever going to have, but that hadn't turned out to be the case after all.

Even though the other Rick back at the Council of Ricks had told him that Mortys were mostly only good as cloaking devices, Rick couldn't deny that he was starting to feel an attachment to this boy already. Sure, he still didn't know the kid hardly at all, but he still felt a strange desire to protect him. Ever since he'd seen what that gross kid Luke was trying to do to the boy, Rick had felt the need to keep the kid away from any future harm. Though he'd been frustrated with Morty a few times since then, and had at times almost felt like he wished he hadn't ever found him and made the kid into his problem, he honestly couldn't in good conscious go back now. Everything he heard that Morty had gone through in his short, tragic life pretty much broke Rick's stone-cold heart. Rick didn't want Morty to ever face anything like that ever again. This kid was his now. His grandson. His family.

Rick stared at Morty's face, noticing the little pout on his lips, the dark bruise on his cheek below his eye, the lighter bruise on his jaw... He couldn't imagine someone wanting to treat this little kid so poorly. Rick had just about the lowest level of patience out of anyone on Earth, but even he wouldn't have wanted to hit Morty like that, and he couldn't imagine what the kid could have possibly done to invoke that kind of rage in anyone. The boy could be somewhat frustrating and even annoyingly clingy, but he really seemed quite sweet - eager to please, nervous about making people upset.

How could someone do what his foster-family or the foster-brother's friend had done to him? How could his mother have gotten frustrated enough that she could look into Morty's big, frightened eyes and tell him he had to undress and go stand in a corner all night, cold and scared? What kind of monster would feel the need beat this little boy with a belt over and over, hard enough to create angry red welts, all because he didn't wash dishes fast enough? How could the foster-brother, who should have been closer to the boy than anyone, deliver the kid to a man who would surely violently sexually assault him? What the hell was wrong with these people?

The more Rick thought about Morty's foster-family members screwing him over through the boy's whole life, the more Rick wondered if he himself were really much better. These people clearly took him in for the money. Lots of people who didn't really want kids fostered them for the money they were awarded for it and abused or neglected the kids. They just wanted the money, and all the rest such as loving, caring for, and protecting the child was viewed as an inconvenience.

Was what Rick wanted the kid for that much different? He was fully prepared to take Morty in, but actually caring for the boy and treating as a family member was kind of on the back burner. Rick hadn't sought out this Morty in order to improve the boy's life. He'd found him for himself - to use him just like all his foster-families had. Sure, Rick wasn't going to hurt or humiliate the boy just because he could. He wasn't going to hit him or leave him in cold basements, but he honestly had been planning to use him, and it wasn't fair.

By now, Rick didn't know if he could use this Morty how he had originally planned. It seemed nothing short of cruel. Perhaps Rick should just keep collecting resources how he had been, but let the boy stay with him too. Morty wouldn't have to go on the adventures. He could stay at home, stay safe. Rick could care for the boy as a grandfather should instead of using the kid like everyone else in his life had.

Rick reached down and pulled the blanket further up over Morty's shoulders, resting his hand on the boy's arm for a moment before taking a step back and settling himself down onto the floor next to the bed. Ordinarily, he would have probably made Morty sleep on the floor instead, but he didn't have the heart to do so now.

Rick faced away from the bed, staring at the bottom of the wall - a spot he didn't ordinarily see since he was rarely down on the floor in here without also being completely wasted and therefore not seeing straight or remembering much the next day.

He snuggled down against his pillow and the carpet, closed his eyes, and quickly fell asleep.

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	13. Chapter 13

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Chapter 13

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When Morty blinked his eyes open, for a moment he didn't remember where he was or what had happened. Staring up at the ceiling, he frowned. It didn't look like his bedroom ceiling. Was he in a hospital or something? Had Luke hurt him really badly and left him somewhere for someone else to find? Had someone found him and called an ambulance?

Swallowing, Morty looked down at himself and around the room. It didn't look like a hospital room. He wasn't wearing a hospital gown either. He inhaled and exhaled a few times, thinking back. He remembered Luke assaulting him, trying to do unspeakable things to him... and he remembered something about a crazy old man scientist showing up and taking him to another planet through a portal.

Morty blinked a few times. That didn't sound right. Was that part a dream? He licked his dry lips and turned over in the bed, pulling himself up with tired limbs. He felt like he hadn't stretched or moved at all in so long. His arms and legs felt stiff and exhausted. He gasped softly as he remembered why. The scientist, who called himself Rick and claimed to be Morty's grandfather only from a different dimension had taken him to collect crystals, and Morty wasn't supposed to touch them for too long. He'd forgotten that instruction and had been using the stones as a heat source to warm up his hands and feet after he ran away from Rick and ended up huddled in a cold, damp cave. They had temporarily paralyzed him.

So it hadn't been a dream. That would explain why he was in this unfamiliar room... Rick must have taken him home with him - to Rick's home, he hoped. Unless this was someplace else. Surely Rick wouldn't have abandoned him... Would he?

Morty frowned and shrunk down slightly as he looked around the room. Numerous hand-drawn charts, graphs, and diagrams he couldn't understand were tacked up on the wall. A shelf in the corner had several half-empty alcohol bottles set up on it. One of them was even tipped over on its side, spilling slightly down the spines of a few books on the shelf below it. On the other side of the room near a window covered in very basic white blinds was a desk with a notebook, microscope and various glass test tubes and flasks next to a bunsen burner.

It certainly looked like what he'd expect Rick's house to consist of - a sort of controlled chaos.

Down on the floor, Morty noticed a blanket and pillow. The blanket was messily bunched up as though someone had slept there and had already gotten up. Morty looked down at himself again. Had Rick given up his bed for the night for his sake? Morty felt the corners of his mouth upturning into a smile.

He inhaled again, finally noticing that the house actually smelled really good. Maybe Rick was cooking something...

Morty stretched his arms in front of himself and then swung his legs out and climbed down off the bed. He carefully crept toward the bedroom's door, hesitating for a moment before slowly pulling it open a few inches.

He peered out and tried to see as much of the house as possible without making any indication to Rick that he was awake yet. Morty was pretty sure Rick was a good person, but he could never be too sure - not after the numerous foster families he'd gone through - including ones who faked kindness just long enough before showing their true colors.

The smell of something that Morty guessed was pancakes or some kind of pastry filled the space. Morty could just barely see part of the kitchen from the bedroom's doorway, and assumed that's where Rick was. He wondered if the man cooked only for himself or if Morty would be invited to share whatever he was making. Morty was certainly hungry.

He also had to pee pretty badly. He looked down the hall in the opposite direction, spotting a door that probably led to a bathroom. Morty pulled the bedroom door open very slowly, pausing when it squeaked. He pulled it open more slowly until it was open just enough for him to squeeze out.

Tiptoeing as quietly as possible, Morty made his way down the hall and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door carefully behind him and locking it. He twisted and pulled on the door knob to test that it truly was locked before exhaling a breath and making his way over to the toilet. He wondered if it was still the same day or if he had slept through most of the afternoon as well as the night. He wouldn't have been surprised. He hadn't been sleeping well lately thanks to his foster-family being especially strict during these past few days.

He finished up and washed his hands before glancing toward the shower. He wondered if he should bathe or hold off. He was safely in here, with the door locked, but he really didn't like the idea of getting undressed in this man's house. Even if he did seem trustworthy, Morty didn't really know him.

Morty gasped and jumped back as he heard a knock on the bathroom door.

"Morty?" Rick's voice spoke up. He paused and started speaking again. "You okay in there? I made pancakes. They're ready if you want any."

Swallowing, Morty stared toward the door.

"Dining room's down the hall," Rick went on. "There's like five rooms in this fuckin' place, so just wander around 'til you find it."

Morty stepped toward the door and listened to Rick's footfalls as the man made his way back down the hall. He waited about half a minute before finally opening the door. He had to come out sooner or later, and Rick hadn't really given Morty any reason to be scared... The boy was just naturally suspicious of anyone being too nice.

Morty silently made his way down the hall until he found himself in a tiny room with a table and two chairs set up next to it. Rick sat in one of them, carefully cutting into a stack of pancakes with a knife and fork. The second chair, which looked like an office desk chair, was set up in front of a place the man had seemingly set for Morty, with a stack of three pancakes on a plate and a glass of orange juice.

Sitting down cautiously, Morty scooted the office chair closer to the table and looked down at his plate. He glanced toward Rick, noticing how carefully the man used his silverware. Morty figured he should probably do the same. His foster mother had gotten pretty upset with him yesterday when he picked up his waffle with his hand.

Morty looked down at the pancakes, noticing they weren't perfect circles and were slightly different sizes from each other. "Y-you made these?" Morty wondered, glancing back up and across the table at Rick.

Rick stared at him and finished chewing. "Uh, yeah...?" He shrugged. "Who else would have?"

"I mean, like you made them. They're not microwaved from the freezer. You actually made them," Morty noted. He only ever had frozen pancakes back at home, and even that was a rare treat.

Rick shrugged. "I don't like eating cheap garbage, Morty. But I do drink it." He gestured toward a bottle of clear liquid on the table. "Want me to make your orange juice more fun?"

"Um..." Morty hesitated. "N-no thanks..."

"Alright. Suit your self." Rick shrugged again and cut off another pancake piece.

Morty picked up the bottle of syrup from the middle of the table and poured some onto his pancake stack and then cut into them similarly to how Rick was doing. He raised his fork to his mouth and took a bite, enjoying the sweet, buttery flavor and warm, fluffy texture. He wasn't sure he'd ever tasted anything this good in his life.

"You sleep alright?" Rick asked him. "Sorry I didn't have a bed of your own ready. I wasn't really prepared to bring you back so soon."

"It's alright." Morty smiled at him, feeling more and more secure in the man's presence with each passing second. This guy didn't watch him like a hawk as though just waiting for Morty to make a mistake worth yelling at him over. He didn't scowl or berate the boy when some syrup dripped from Morty's fork, down his chin and onto his shirt. He didn't yell when Morty had used his fingers to wipe away said syrup instead of a napkin. Rick didn't sound like his voice was attempting to mask any anger or ulterior motive. He wasn't putting up a front.

Morty supposed that was one thing he could trust about this man - that he was genuine. He wasn't going to just tell Morty what he wanted to hear and claim things were better than they were, but that meant when he did say or so something kind, Morty didn't have to wonder what he was hiding or planning. He was pretty upfront.

"We can work on getting you a bed soon, and maybe I'll start looking for an apartment with two bed rooms," Rick suggested. "Until then, you're stuck in my room, I guess. Unless you want the couch, but it sucks."

Morty shrugged. It didn't matter much to him. "Are we going to go on any more adventures to other planets?" He wondered.

Rick looked back at him. "I thought you didn't like that. Thought you didn't appreciate being used as a cloaking device. We had a whole argument about it..." Rick frowned as though confused by Morty's question.

"I didn't appreciate it when I thought that was all you cared about," Morty explained. "I don't mind behind helpful since you helped me too, and since I don't think you're only using me anymore. I mean, I do think you're using me... but that there's something more between us at the same time."

Rick shook his head. "You've had people taking you into their homes for their own selfish bullshit for long enough, Morty. I won't do that to you. I did want to originally, but you deserve better. You can stay here, stay safe... I won't use you to get what I want. That wouldn't be fair. I'm going to let you stay here because you need it, not because I do."

"But I'm fine with it. I want to help you. I owe it to you," Morty said.

Rick furrowed his brows. "You don't owe me anything, Morty. Your presence would be helpful on my adventures, but I can manage on my own. I've been doing okay so far, with a few minor exceptions."

"Just because you can manage on your own doesn't mean you have to though," Morty noted. "I can mange on my own too, but I kind of like not being alone."

Rick stared back, nodding again, but not speaking.

"I've been on my own for a long time, Rick, and I think you have too," Morty spoke. "I was starting to feel like there wasn't anyone out there for me. I expected to be alone forever, and maybe you did too. Both of us lost our family maybe before we should have, but then we found each other, and part of what we lost is back, kind of."

Rick shrugged, but some kind of emotion was behind his eyes. Morty could tell he was feeling similarly, even if he didn't want to say so.

"So can I keep going with you? Can we be a team? Rick and Morty? Space traveling scientist duo. Portal gun, space rock-collecting... uh... Super scientific sp- um... You know, like really cool space scientists..." Morty grinned.

"If it's what you want," Rick agreed, smirking very slightly himself even though he seemed to be trying to hide his smile behind a facade of indifference.

Morty practically bounced in the office chair. He was so excited. He'd get to go on amazing, crazy adventures now, and with someone who was his actual family. Someone who actually cared about him, even if it was in a strange, sometimes unclear sort of way.

"Wow, Rick.. I've always wanted to travel into space and find something new and exciting. I daydreamed about it all the time at school, or while I was standing in the kitchen corner waiting for morning to come," Morty explained.

"Well, the possibilities are endless, Morty. Everything in the universe... and everything in each conceivable reality's universe. We cannot possibly run out of places to go. It literally never ends," Rick told him.

"Where will we go next?" Morty wondered.

Rick shrugged. "Anywhere we want, Morty."

"M-maybe we could-" Morty started, but hesitated and looked down at his pancakes. The thought of living with Rick now and never having to see his foster-family ever again sounded like a dream come true, but he also had memories back at that house, like the stuffed horse his mom had given him for his third birthday, a tiny little plastic Titanic replica that his dad gave him for the same birthday, or the drawings Summer had made for him, or the strange coins his grandpa had given him - which, now that he thought about it, were probably not even from Earth. That's why he couldn't find the symbols on them anywhere on the internet.

"Could what, Morty?" Rick frowned at him as he cut another piece off his pancake stack.

"Well... There's a couple things back at my house that I'd kind of like to have." Morty frowned.

Rick's shoulders slumped as he stared back.

"I know you probably think it's stupid, but it's the only stuff I have from my real family... I don't remember them all that much. I don't have pictures, barely even have memories..." Morty explained. "It's just stuff, and you probably think I'm being dumb. I get that-"

"We can go back for it," Rick agreed surprisingly easily. "I can just portal us right into the room, get whatever it is, and go. It'll take two minutes assuming you know where it is."

"Really?" Morty smiled, somewhat surprised that Rick hadn't denied his request.

"Sure." Rick shrugged. "I'm not into sentimental bullshit, but I see you are... so..."

"Uh-" Morty hesitated, unsure if he should be offended by that. "W-well, okay then... That's where I want to go then. Just for a minute."

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	14. Treasures

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Chapter 14

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"It shouldn't take me that long," Morty explained to Rick as he watched the man putting coordinates of some kind into the same gun he'd used to make the other portals. "But maybe you can stay hidden in case-"

"I don't need to stay hidden," Rick scoffed. "What are they gonna do? Call the police? We'll be gone again before it matters."

"Don't you want this stuff to be a secret?" Morty frowned. "What if they tell the government or something."

"Tell them what?" Rick shrugged. "Science is no secret. It's only a secret if you're dumb and don't understand it. There's no reason to hide it from idiot foster parents who probably couldn't even build an elementary school-level fucking plaster volcano. I could give them the plans to my portal gun and they'd still not know what to do with it."

"W-well, I'd rather them not know... What if they come looking for me somehow? If you're smart enough to make portals and go to different dimensions, other people could be too. What if they hire someone smart to track us down...? I'd rather them not know where I went or who I'm with," Morty explained.

Rick sighed loudly. "Fine."

"J-just portal into my closet or something," Morty suggested. "I'll go out and find the things I want and we'll go."

"I don't know the exact coordinates of your fucking closet, Morty." Rick exhaled.

"Then the garage or something... Just not right into the house where they might see you."

Rick adjusted the coordinates and silently fired the gun ahead. He nodded toward the glowing green portal and then stepped through. Morty followed.

When he stepped out of the portal and it disappeared, Morty found that he was someplace pretty dark. Until his eyes adjusted, he figured he was in the garage like he'd suggested, but soon found they were in the basement instead.

"Rick! What if someone comes down here?" Morty frowned.

"Just go get whatever the fuck it is. I'll wait here. If anyone comes down I'll freeze them."

"Freeze them?" Morty grimaced.

Rick shrugged. "Just go. You said it'd take two minutes. Let's get this done so we can leave."

Morty nodded and headed toward the stairs, inhaling a deep breath before tip-toeing carefully up to the door. He hoped Shawn had already left for school and Victor for work, but he wasn't really sure what time it was. If they were already gone, there was a good chance his foster-mother would be asleep in front of the tv.

Opening the door slowly, Morty poked his head out into the hallway. He could hear the muffled sound of conversation from the kitchen, indicating his foster-family was still here. As quietly as he could, he crept up the stairs and into his room, closing the door carefully behind him and making his way over to his bed.

He knelt down and crawled half-way under the bed, feeling around in the dark until he found a shoe box where he kept his few valued possessions. He pulled it out and set it on his worn out mattress so he could make sure everything was still in there.

Taking the lid off the box, Morty looked down and observed its contents. He picked up the little stuffed horse toy and petted its soft fur. One of its eyes was missing, but he didn't mind. It was still something special from his mother. The only thing he had left of her.

He picked up the small plastic Titanic ship next, turning it over in his hands. Morty hadn't ever had any interest in either horses or ships, so he wasn't sure why his parents gave him these things. He figured they were inspired by their own interests, and that was okay. These items were reminders of them, so he kind of liked that his parents had been a little self-centered in choosing their gifts.

He moved the coins over so he could reach down into the box and observe his sister's drawings. She must have been four or five years old when she made these for him. She'd tried to write her name on the top, but had included one too many m's. The drawing, though very unclear, Morty assumed was a family portrait. Below that one was another of a cat, also with Summer's name spelled with three m's.

Morty smiled and stacked the drawings back into the box, pushing the coins back over them, and placing the horse and plastic ship on top.

"You've been gone awfully long."

Morty gasped and turned toward the sound of Shawn's voice. It figured the doors in this house would only fail to squeak when Shawn was the one sneaking around.

"I haven't heard from Luke since yesterday morning..." Shawn frowned. "What happened?"

Morty swallowed nervously and put the lid back onto the shoe box, hoping Shawn hadn't seen what was inside and wouldn't realize how important it was to him. It was a miracle Morty's treasures had survived at all in this house for so long.

"What happened, Morty?" Shawn asked again. He looked almost nervous, like he was scared Morty had done something terrible. "Luke won't text me back. Clark and Jay haven't heard from him... What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," Morty answered in a small voice.

"Yes you did!" Shawn was practically shouting now. "He always answers his texts... He's not at his house. Where is he? And where the fuck have you been? You know something... You did something..."

Morty shook his head. "I don't know anything. I-" Morty hesitated. "I didn't do anything..." Even if he told the truth, Shawn wouldn't believe it. What was he supposed to say? That his dead scientist grandpa from another dimension used a portal gun to cut Luke in half? Who the hell would believe that?

"You've been gone an entire day," Shawn noted. "You were supposed to come home and do your chores... and if you did something to Luke-"

"I didn't!" Morty shouted. "I didn't do anything. He was attacking me, and I didn't even do anything! I couldn't!"

"You're lying... You ran away for some reason. You did something to him, and then you ran off, didn't come home and do your chores... Dad is going to beat the shit out of you, Morty," Shawn threatened. "You're in so much fucking trouble. And if you did something to Luke, you're gonna go to jail. You think what he wanted to do to you was bad... Just wait until you're in prison with real creeps."

Frowning, Morty shook his head again. "What could I have possibly done to him? And even if I did do something, it would have been in self-defense. Nobody's gonna put a fourteen year old in prison for doing something to a guy that was trying to rape him." He felt his hands clenching into fists as he scowled at his foster-brother. He was so sick of Shawn and was more than ready to have the older boy out of his life forever. "Now get out of my way."

Morty winced and flinched back when Shawn reached out and slapped him across the face. The younger boy stumbled back a few feet and brought his hand up to his cheek.

"Mom, Dad!" Shawn yelled out. "Morty's back. He's up here in his room!"

Morty frowned, grabbing up his shoe box and hugging it to his chest. "Get out of my way!" He screamed, trying to push past Shawn only to be shoved back rather violently. He tripped over the uneven rug and fell back against the wall, dropping the box in the process.

Shawn reached down and grabbed it, opening it up and staring down at it. "What the fuck's all this stupid shit?" he grumbled, pouring it onto the floor, kicking the stuffed horse to the side and then kneeling down and grabbing up one of the coins. "Where'd you get this?" He frowned.

"Put it down!" Morty screamed, feeling rather frantic. He put up with a lot from this kid... Shawn made fun of him, hurt him, tattled on him, hand-delivered him to sexual predators... but messing with these few prized possessions was simply unacceptable.

"Why?" Shawn laughed, drawing his hand back when Morty scrambled forward and reached for it. "Is it from some stupid game or something?"

Morty pouted and felt tears in his eyes.

"These aren't even real words... or even real letters," Shawn commented as he looked down at the coin.

"Mortimer, where the hell have you been?" Morty looked up when his foster-mother's voice boomed in through the doorway. His foster-father was right behind her, scowling down at him.

"If you don't all get away from me, right now, I'm going to call my social worker and tell her everything," Morty threatened as he stood up as straight as he could, trying to appear strong and confident when he felt anything but. He could feel himself shaking.

"Oh? Will you?" Victor stared back. "I'll tell her everything too. I'll tell her you refuse to do chores, you're late to school even when your brother drives you right there, you get detentions so often you're barely ever home on time, and you ran away for an entire day."

"I'll show her the welts all over my back," Morty clenched his hands into fists again. "I'll tell her Shawn tried to get his friend to rape me. I'll tell her Mom makes me take off my clothes and stand in the cold without sleeping for entire nights. I'll tell her everything. Every. Single. Thing."

Victor's mouth twitched slightly as he stared down at his foster-son. Morty looked from him to Shawn, and then toward his foster-mom. They all looked somewhat shocked, somewhat worried, and very angry.

"Tara, Shawn... Wait in the hallway," Victor instructed his family as his angry gaze didn't leave Morty.

They did as they were told, closing the door behind them and leaving Morty alone with the man.

Morty could feel his breaths were short and shaky. He really hadn't intended on running into any of them. He knew it was possible, but had really hoped he could have avoided something like this. He was feeling a bit more brave now than usual, if only because he knew this was the last time he'd ever have to deal with these people. He didn't need to keep them happy so he wouldn't be punished later. He only needed to do whatever he could to get back down to the basement.

"I want you to tell me where you've been for the past day. You weren't at school. They called here and we had to lie and say you were home sick, because we didn't want a whole ordeal surrounding this. Where were you?" Victor questioned.

Morty swallowed and looked toward the door. Even if he ran for it and made it, there was no guarantee his mom and brother would allow him to get much further. He also wanted to take his box of mementos with him, and it was currently spilled all over the floor.

"Where were you? You better have a damn good reason for skipping school, running off for a full day..." Victor shook his head.

Morty exhaled and decided on a half-truth. "Shawn didn't take me to school," he started. "He drove me to Luke's house, and then picked up Luke and drove us further and left me and Luke somewhere... I don't know where we were," he lied. "He left us there, and Luke attacked me. I fought back and ran away."

Victor narrowed his eyes. He didn't seem to believe this story, even though it wasn't that far from the truth.

"By that point I was late already... so I knew I'd get detention. I knew you'd be mad if I came home late... So I just stayed gone."

"Well, even if any of that is true, you're supposed to tell us where you are. We're in charge of you. You're thirteen years old. You can't just leave for an entire day," Victor told him.

"I'm fourteen," Morty corrected him, frowning when he noticed his foster-father unbuckling his belt and beginning to slide it out from his pants loops. Morty shook his head and took a step back.

"Take off your shirt," Victor instructed.

"No!" Morty refused.

"Do as I say, boy," Victor growled, sliding his belt off completely and gripping it tightly in his hands. "You can take off your shirt and take your punishment like a man, or I can take off your shirt myself, and I won't stop there. If I have to do this myself, you won't be wearing anything, and you'll be standing in that kitchen corner for the rest of the day, and in the basement all night. No food. No water. Nothing."

Morty swallowed and stared back. "J-just send me straight to the basement..." he offered. Maybe the shoe box wasn't as important as it had seemed a few minutes ago. Maybe if he could just get back to Rick and leave, that would be good enough. He didn't need the gifts from his family. He could live without them.

"You don't get to choose your own punishment. You've got three seconds to take off your shirt yourself," Victor threatened and then began counting. "One... Two..."

Morty whimpered softly and then reached toward the bottom of his shirt with shaking hands. He didn't see that he had much of a choice. He pulled the shirt over his head and held it tightly in his hands as he stared back at his foster-father.

"Now your pants," Victor continued.

Morty felt his stomach do a flip. "You said-"

"And you said you were going to go to school and come home on time," Victor interrupted. "Take off your pants. And your underwear."

Shaking his head, Morty blinked back tears and swallowed a lump in his throat. "No..."

"Do it," the man demanded.

Morty took a small step back. "No," he said again.

"Things can always get worse for you, Morty," his foster-father threatened. "I know parents who do much worse than what I've done, and for much smaller crimes. You're completely out of control."

"I'm not," Morty argued. "I didn't do anything wrong. Y-you're all abusive and awful and I don't have to put up with it anymore! I even do what you tell me, and it's still not good enough. I'm not taking off my pants! You're being creepy and acting like a sexual predator. I don't have to listen to you!"

"You think this is what a sexual predator would do?" Victor raised an eyebrow and stared down at him.

Morty swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. Normal parents don't make their kids get naked as a punishment."

"Normal kids don't act like you do. Take off your pants, and you'll only get the belt. Make me fight you over it, and you'll get worse."

Staring back, Morty frowned. He couldn't imagine how this could get worse. "Like what? Are you gonna actually kill me next? It can't get much worse."

"Oh, it can," Victor promised. "You don't know what sexual assault is, boy, but I could show you if you're going to accuse me of it anyway."

Morty could feel his heart pounding in his chest. "A-are you serious?" He squeaked.

"Take. Off. Your. Pants." Victor spoke in slow, angry words, clearly very close to snapping.

Morty swallowed and shook his head again. "I-I'll tell my social worker."

"God damn it, Morty..." Victor growled and lunged forward, easily tackling Morty to the ground.

"No!" Morty screamed and struggled to push the man's hands away as Victor reached down and unbuttoned the boy's jeans. "Rick!" He screamed as loud as he could. His foster-father didn't even seem to notice or question the fact that Morty was screaming a seemingly random man's name. "Rick, help!" Morty screamed again as Victor yanked his pants and underwear down in one quick motion, leaving the garments tangled around his ankles.

Morty choked out a sob as Victor quickly wrestled his arms behind him and tied his wrists tightly together with his own t-shirt. It wasn't enough for the man to hurt his foster-son. He had to make sure to humiliate him as much as possible at the same time.

"This is why you come home on time," Victor spoke in a cold, emotionless voice as he stood up and swung his belt down, hitting Morty's thigh and causing a white hot stinging pain to shoot through his leg.

Morty screamed out a pained cry and pulled uselessly at his hands. "Dad, stop!" he begged.

"This is why you take your punishments without arguing," his foster-father all but ignored his pleas and hit him again. The belt struck violently across his shoulder and collar.

With a frightened whimper, Morty curled himself into a ball, trying to pull his hands free so he could at least cover his face. "Rick! Help me!" Morty cried in a trembling voice. Surely the man could hear him from the basement... but what did Morty even expect him to do? Victor was a very big man. He could probably hurt Rick too.

"And why you don't ever tell me no," Victor went on, swinging the belt down again.

Morty flinched, but could do nothing to prevent the belt from painfully curling around already present, still sensitive welts on his back. He was so scared, both because this was very painful, and because his father had legitimately threatened to sexually assault him. Did he mean it? Was that what was coming next? Would Rick come and save him in time again, or was it really going to happen this time?

"This is why you do the chores I ask you to do," Victor went on, lashing the belt out again so that it hit Morty's side, curling around over his ribs.

Morty tried to make himself smaller, bringing his knees up to his chest and squeezing his eyes shut. He could almost swear he heard some kind of commotion out in the hall, but he was too focused on himself to be sure.

"And this is why you never, ever run away from me," Victor's voice growled.

Morty inhaled a pained, shaking breath. He squeezed his eyes further shut and shrunk down as far as he could and awaited what was sure to be the most painful of the man's attacks against him.

Instead of the expected pain, however, he felt nothing. He only heard the door swinging open and a strange sound he didn't recognize, followed by complete silence.

xxxxxx


	15. Chapter 15

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Chapter 15

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Rick exhaled and tapped his foot impatiently as he waited in the basement for Morty to get whatever bullshit he'd come back here for. Rick couldn't imagine any material items would be worth returning to this place, but he had played along anyway and was already regretting it.

Morty hadn't wanted him to portal directly into the room for fear that someone in the family would see him and ask questions, but there was a very simple solution to that possibility - his laser gun. These people didn't deserve to live anyway after how they'd treated this kid. Rick knew in his heart that he wouldn't feel an ounce of remorse if he turned all three of them to ash.

Rick listened carefully as he looked around the basement. At the moment, he could hear quiet movement and conversation from somewhere upstairs. That meant at least two of Morty's former foster-family members were here, talking to each other. It didn't sound heated, so Morty wasn't involved, which meant Rick could stay put. If the kid managed to get what he'd come for and made it back down into the basement without conflict, Rick was somewhat okay with leaving the family here and allowing them to live. It seemed Morty didn't want to resort to violence, so Rick supposed he'd hold back if he could.

The basement, was cold, dark, and almost felt wet - like going outside in the winter after a rain storm when things were still misty. This was the basement where Morty's foster-father made him sleep, according to the boy. Rick frowned as he looked around. These people fucking sucked.

He looked up at the ceiling as he could swear he heard light footfalls going upstairs. He wondered if that was the sound of Morty's feet. He thought the kid had already made it up there, but maybe he'd gone slowly to avoid detection and was only just now making it up there.

More low voices could be heard next, seemingly coming from upstairs. Rick furrowed his brow. It seemed someone was up there with Morty. It didn't sound violent though, and Morty had seemed to feel it was important for Rick not to be seen, so for the moment, the man stayed put.

It wasn't until he heard the foster-brother yell out to his parents that Rick started to get worried. "Mom, Dad! Morty's back. He's up here in his room!" Rick heard the kid call out, followed by heavy footsteps leading upstairs.

"God damn it," Rick grumbled to himself, feeling around in his lab coat for his laser gun. He wasn't going to use it if he didn't think he had to... Maybe he'd even stay down here a minute longer to be sure before barging upstairs, but he had a pretty good idea these people weren't just going to let this go. If they'd force the boy to stand half-naked in a cold corner and beat him with a belt for not doing dishes, what would they do to him after he'd seemingly ran away for a full day? Maybe they'd even know that the kid who'd attacked him was dead in two pieces in that construction zone. Maybe they'd think Morty somehow murdered him...

Rick crept slowly up the basement stairs and held his ear up to the door, listening carefully and trying to judge whether or not Morty needed him to kill these people.

He heard more voices, but didn't act until they dissolved into actual screaming, which included Morty's cries for help specifically to Rick.

Without another thought, Rick swung the basement's door open and headed upstairs.

"Who the hell are you?" A woman's angry, confused voice asked as Morty's foster-mother and brother came into Rick's view.

Rick didn't have time to give an answer and didn't feel he owed her one anyway. He raised his laser gun up, fired a shot, and then turned toward the brother, firing one at him too. In turn, they each dissolved into nothing.

Next, he followed the sounds of a struggle and angry words coming from behind a closed bedroom door. He pulled the door open in time to see Morty's foster-father looming over to boy, who was facing away from the door, curled up on the floor, with his pants and underwear bunched around his ankles and his t-shirt securing his wrists behind his back. The boy's foster-father had his arm raised up, threatening to hit the kid with his belt. It looked like he'd already hit Morty a few times, as fresh, angry red marks stood out against his otherwise smooth skin.

With a small growl in his throat, Rick fired his laser gun at the man's back, turning him to ash before the guy ever knew the older man was there.

For a long few seconds, the room was filled with complete silence. Morty seemed to try to make himself smaller as he refused to turn toward Rick. He was virtually quiet and still but was breathing in shaking, cautious breaths, almost as though scared to breathe loud enough to be heard. Even so, his breaths were trembling and underscored by soft whimpers.

Rick knelt down next to him, putting his hand lightly on Morty's arm and frowning down at him.

Morty shrunk down away from his touch, but kept his eyes squeezed tightly closed. "Dad, please don't," the boy begged in a breathless, frightened voice.

"Morty, it's me," Rick told him.

"R-rick?" Morty seemed to relax slightly as his tear-filled eyes blinked open.

"Yeah... Hold still," Rick suggested as he worked on untangling the boy's shirt from around his wrists. He pulled the garment off of his arms and then gently grasped Morty's hands, pulling the kid to his feet.

Morty's lower lip trembled and tears welled up in his eyes as he stared up at Rick, who couldn't help but to take in his injuries, several of which were actually bleeding. He had a harsh bleeding welt stretched from the back of one shoulder, around to the front, and over his collar bone. He had a similar mark across his ribs, curling around toward his back. Another very painful looking welt, bleeding in a few places ran from the boy's thigh, up over his pelvis, and toward his belly button.

"I think he hit me a lot harder than before," Morty spoke in a tiny, trembling voice that was almost a whisper as he moved his hands down to cover himself. He moaned softly, but didn't move to pull up his pants. He just stood there, wincing, biting his lower lip, and squeezing his eyes shut as though he was in the worst pain of his life.

"I've got an ointment that'll help, but you can't use it all the time. It has side effects," Rick offered, feeling around in his lab coat for his emergency supply of the concoction.

Morty's eyes widened and he took a step back. "Side effects?" he whispered.

"Only if you over-use it. It'll be fine just this once. All it does it make you lose a lot of feeling wherever you use it and helps repair the skin five to ten times faster than it would heal naturally. If you use it too much, it numbs you for longer, possibly forever if you really overdo it. You should be fine just using it the one time," Rick explained.

"O-okay," Morty reluctantly agreed with a shaking breath and a small sniffling sound.

Rick put his hand on Morty's shoulder and led him toward his bed, gently sitting the boy down on the mattress and squatting in front of him. He threw the kid's t-shirt in his lap to cover him up - mostly for Morty's own sake, since Rick didn't necessarily get hung up on nudity. He could tell Morty did, even if the boy did seem a little too traumatized to put care into keeping himself covered up at the moment.

Rick raised up the tube of ointment so Morty could see it. "Hold out your hand. I'll get the ones on your back," he offered.

Morty raised up a shaking hand and allowed Rick to squirt some of the substance onto his fingertips. He stared at Rick with wide eyes as though wanting to witness the man's use of the product before trying it himself.

With a tired exhale, Rick carefully leaned around to see the boy's back. He rubbed some of the substance along one of the deeper cuts made by his foster-father's belt, across his back and around a few inches over his ribs. "Feel any better?" Rick wondered, looking at Morty with a raised brow.

"I- I t-think so..." Morty answered in a tiny voice. He moved his own fingers down to his thigh, awkwardly slathering the sticky ointment there with a hand shaking so badly he could barely even manage to keep the stuff over the cut rather than getting it all over the skin next to it.

Rick frowned at him, wondering if he should just do this himself. As long as Morty wouldn't make it weird, Rick could do the same. He considered himself very logical and didn't get offended by people seeing or touching parts of his body that most considered 'private.' Judging by Morty's reaction to being stripped down by his foster-parents as a punishment, however, Morty probably didn't feel the same.

"You want me to help you?" Rick finally asked.

Morty swallowed nervously.

"You can trust me," Rick promised him. "About this anyway. I'm a deceitful motherfucker when it serves my purpose, but I'm no creep. I'll only help you if you want me to."

Nodding carefully, Morty swallowed and kept his nervous stare firmly focused on his grandfather's eyes.

Rick stared back. This kid was much less shy about this than Rick would have guessed the boy would be back when he saw all the Mortys at the Council of Ricks. Seeing the abuse the kid had suffered, Rick had assumed the boy would be very difficult to get close to or even talk to, but Morty was staring so intently at Rick's eyes as the man tended to the boy's injuries. Rick had expected Morty might look away, ashamed that he was accepting help from a man he really didn't know. He even half-expected the boy to flinch away, possibly scream and refuse help all together, but maybe his completely still posture and unwavering gaze was more due to paranoia and fear than anything else. Perhaps Morty didn't trust Rick enough to allow himself the comfort of looking away. His stare was so intent, in fact that it almost made Rick himself uncomfortable.

"This okay?" Rick asked as he moved his hand toward Morty's injury. The way the child's foster-father had struck him caused this particular welt to run quite a long length across Morty's skin, including a few inches of its expanse running very close to his groin. Rick didn't mind helping him, but was surprised his grandson would allow it after everything he'd been through.

The boy nodded, but didn't speak as he maintained eye contact. Rick could feel Morty shaking slightly under his touch and the poor kid seemed to be making such an effort to remain perfectly still that he may have even been holding his breath.

Morty stared at him with huge, wide eyes as Rick carefully moved his fingers over the welt on Morty's thigh, rubbing the clear ointment up over his pelvis and across his stomach until the entire injury was covered.

"Your foster-father was a huge bastard, Morty," Rick told him as he carefully covered the other injuries in the ointment as he had the first two. "Nobody's ever going to do something like this to you ever again. I promise you that."

Rick stood back up and reached down to help Morty stand as well as soon as all of his injuries had been tended to.

He expected that Morty would first want to re-dress himself, but that's not what happened. Before Rick had a chance to take a step back and give his grandson some space, he felt Morty's slim arms wrap around his waist as the boy buried his face in Rick's shirt and began to sob.

"Uh..." Rick hesitated and looked around the room, not sure if he was looking for a way out or just trying to distract himself. He wasn't sure how to deal with this traumatized kid. This wasn't something he was good at.

As Morty continued loudly sobbing, Rick put his hand carefully against the boy's back, holding him as close as he felt the kid wanted him to as he looked around what had been his grandson's bedroom for however many years he'd been forced to live here. It looked even more run-down and pathetic in person than it had through the goggles. It was so small. He looked back down toward his grandson, who was hugging him tightly and sobbing rather loudly.

"You're okay..." Rick said awkwardly.

"It hurt so much," Morty's shaking voice rattled off between breathless, heartbroken sobs. "I begged him not to... He was so mad... He said..." Morty interrupted himself with another shaking sob. "He said he would-" He let out another trembling, tear-filled breath.

"It's alright," Rick assured him as he moved his hand carefully over Morty's back. "He's not going to do anything to you."

"I said he was being a creep," Morty went on. "I said he was being like a sexual pervert creep... And he said-" the boy let out another choked sob.

Rick shook his head. "It doesn't matter now. He's gone."

"I told him normal parents don't- don't make... their kids..." He choked out another breathless cry. "They don't make th-their kids undress li-like he and mom do... that he was being a pervert... and he said... h-he said if I was gonna call him that, then he'd do it f-for real. That he'd do a sexual assault thing to me... and I didn't know if he was really gonna... but he said he would," Morty's voice dwindled down into a near-whisper by the end of this explanation.

"He won't though," Rick assured him. "You're with me now. No one's gonna do that kinda shit to you anymore."

"You were right, Rick," Morty sniffed between sobs. "We shouldn't have bothered staying hidden. Now they know you're here anyway."

Rick looked around the room. No one knew he was here, because everyone else who had been in the house was dead now. He was surprised Morty still thought someone was left in the house. Did he just think his foster-family was willing to let Rick, who was a stranger to them, do whatever he wanted? Where the fuck did the kid think his foster-family was right now? Just chilling in the hallway, totally cool with Rick coming in out of nowhere?

"Th-they'll follow us... What'll we do?" Morty whimpered and hugged Rick tighter.

"No one's gonna follow us, Morty," Rick promised. "It's just you and me from now on. No one's gonna come after us, because no one but us is even here. It's just us."

Rick felt Morty's shoulders trembling as the boy continued hiding his face from the world - even though the world wasn't even looking.

"You're alright, Morty. I should have come up here sooner..." Rick shook his head. He really should have. As soon as he heard the foster-brother going upstairs, Rick should have stepped in. "But you're okay now. They won't hurt you ever again. I made sure of it."

"A-are they gone?" Morty sniffed, but didn't let go of Rick until the man practically pried the boy's arms off of him.

Rick carefully knelt down, pulling Morty's underwear and pants back up since it seemed Morty was too preoccupied to do so himself. He then placed his hands gently on the boy's shoulders and looked into his wide, frightened eyes. "They're gone," Rick promised him.

"D-did you send them to another dimension or something?" Morty wondered as he looked around the room nervously.

"Or something," Rick smirked and shrugged.

"W-what do you mean?" Morty frowned.

"They're gone," Rick clarified. "Actually gone... from existence. As in, they do not exist anymore. Anywhere. Not in this dimension or any other. Laser gun. Turned 'em to ash."

Morty's mouth dropped open. "W-what?" He grimaced and swallowed, shrinking down slightly away from Rick's touch. "Y-you killed them?"

"They deserved it," Rick assured him. "Look what they did to you, Morty."

Morty frowned and looked down. "It would've only hurt for a little while..."

"And I was kinder to them by making their deaths quick," Rick assured the boy. "Even though I shouldn't have even granted them that degree of mercy. Should have made 'em die slowly. I was more merciful to them than they were to you."

"I guess I just don't like people dying." Morty sighed. "Even if they were mean to me."

"Well I love it." Rick shrugged. "Nothing's more satisfying than killing a child-abusing piece of shit."

Morty laughed a nervous, rather forced-sounding laugh and then looked down at his feet.

With a loud sigh, Rick clapped his hand gently over Morty's shoulder. "Well, I'm now responsible for four deaths in this dimension, and they're all connected to you... so we might want to get out of here."

"Yeah," Morty breathed out a nervous breath and then started collecting some items off the floor. Rick noticed him piling drawings, a stuffed animal, a plastic toy ship, and some coins into a small shoe box.

Some of the coins had been scattered around the floor. Rick reached down and picked one up, turning it over in his hands. "These are Flurbos," Rick noted with a frown. Earth didn't use this currency. "How did you get these?"

Morty reached out his small hand and picked up the coin out of Rick's palm. "You- I mean my grandpa left them behind when he died. He left a lot of stuff behind, but I couldn't take much. My other grandparents tried to help me choose good mementos from my family right after I came home for the first time after the accident. I guess they knew I was never going back there. I didn't know."

"They dead too?" Rick wondered.

Morty shook his head and shrugged his arms through his shirt sleeves and pulled the garment down over his head. "No. I mean, I don't think so at least. I haven't seen them in a long time."

"Assholes." Rick frowned. "Your dad's Jerry, right?" he asked.

Morty nodded.

"Figures," Rick scoffed. "Anyone who'd raise Jerry to be the low-life piece of human excrement-"

"Hey!" Morty interrupted. "He's my dad. Don't talk about him like that. If my mom died in your universe before Summer or I were ever born, did you even know my dad?"

"He dated Beth when they were in high school. Dumbest little fuckin' nerd motherfuckin' kid I've ever met. He had some kinda dumb obsession with fucking Star Wars, like real space travel wasn't interesting enough for him."

"Did he get to travel through space like you?" Morty wondered.

Rick shrugged. "No."

"Then Star Wars was the best he could have," Morty suggested. "I barely remember him, but what I do remember is good stuff. I think about him, and I'm not sure why, but the thought of my dad makes me feel safe and happy. Same with my mom and sister and you- I mean... the, uh... The other Rick."

"Your Rick made you feel safe and happy?" Rick frowned.

"Sure. He was really nice, I think. It's hard to remember, but I remember other people from when I was young, and I don't feel that way about everyone. The first foster family I lived with, I don't remember all that well either, but I know thinking of them makes me feel anxious," the boy explained. "So I'm not really sure what Rick was like, but my fuzzy memories of him make me feel like things were good."

Rick nodded. He wondered if he would have been a kinder grandfather if he'd known this kid and his sister for longer. The Ricks at the Council of Ricks certainly didn't seem like caring grandparents.

"I guess things are finally gonna be good again," Morty smiled up at him.

Rick stared back at the kid. Surely he was nothing good for this kid compared to this other Rick who made the boy actually feel safe. Things in Rick's life were never safe. "Morty, if you're gonna go on adventures with me, I don't know if you're gonna be feeling safe ever again."

"Sure I will," Morty disagreed. "I already do."

Rick groaned. "Don't do that, Morty... I'm not that kind of grandpa. I'm the kind who child protective services would probably step in and take you from me if they knew how I was."

"You don't have to be perfect. You just have to do what's right, and you do. Nobody else has ever stood up for me like you did," Morty told him.

Rick put the coordinates back to his apartment into his portal gun and fired it ahead, gesturing for Morty to go through first and then following him. "I'm not the best poster-boy for standing up for anyone but myself, Morty."

"You cut a guy in half, Rick," Morty reminded him. "All to stand up for me. You lasered my foster-family to death because they were hurting me."

Rick laughed and put his arm around Morty's shoulders. "Well..." He shrugged.

"It's okay. You don't have to think you're good, because I know you are," Morty told him as he and Rick sat down on the couch in Rick's living room.

Rick shrugged and picked up the television remote. "Well, whatever you say... I mean, you'll see. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Morty smirked and scooted closer to Rick. "Thanks for rescuing me from them."

Rick stared ahead at the television. He didn't like talking about emotional things. Not unless he was really drunk. So he changed the subject. "Wait 'til you see the kind of tv channels I get, Morty. I invented an inter-dimensional cable box, so this'll blow your fuckin' mind."

"What's that mean? Inter-dimensional cable box?" Morty wondered with furrowed brows and a frown.

"Television from every conceivable reality. From dimensions you could barely even fucking imagine," Rick explained.

"Like where actors who died are still alive and stuff?" Morty's eyebrows rose and he looked excited. "And like where they made sequels to stuff we didn't get sequels of here?"

"That, and even better. Or worse, I guess, depending on how you look at it. You'll see." Rick nodded toward the screen, silently requesting that Morty shut up and watch.

"Two crunchy tacos for the price of one," an announcer's overly dramatic voice spoke from the television speakers as images of tacos flashed across the screen. Morty glanced toward Rick with a frown, but then looked back at the screen without saying anything. Rick could tell the boy was confused and couldn't see how this was different than what he considered regular television.

"It was an ordinary Tuesday afternoon when Splargh took his two Noops coins down to the taco shed. At least he thought it was an ordinary Tuesday. When he looked in the bag that was a bag of tacos that he thought was a bag of one taco, he saw he had two tacos instead. Two for the price of one-style," the announcer went on.

Morty looked up at Rick again. "Is this an ad? Like... a-are they trying to tell us... You know... that tacos are on sale at this place?"

"Shh," Rick nodded back toward the screen. "I've been dying to see this. I might make a special trip to Noopslarb just to see this shit."

"He didn't even pay for two, but he got 'em. Like a taco Tuesday miracle, but it gets weirder. It was actually Wednesday the whole time. Taco Bell: The Movie. Coming this fall," the dramatic voice concluded.

Morty exhaled loudly and looked up at Rick like the man had just made the dumbest joke he'd ever heard.

"What?" Rick shrugged, turning the channel again.

"I feel like you're messing with me. None of that made sense," Morty frowned.

"Sure it did," Rick scoffed. "Taco Bell: The Movie. Based on the show."

Morty leaned his head against Rick's shoulder and looked toward the screen as Rick flipped through the channels.

"They're walking on their hands," Morty laughed as he stared at the television screen.

"Everyone in that dimension does," Rick explained.

Morty looked skeptical up at Rick and then back at the screen. "Is this a joke though? Like seriously? I mean, people could walk on their hands... Like anyone could learn that."

"Could anyone learn this?" Rick wondered, flipping the channel again to a Law and Order episode where the detectives had their eyes on stalks above their heads. Besides for their appearance, the show was extremely serious."

"Rick, I don't get it," Morty shrugged as he snuggled up closer to his grandfather and hugged the man's arm. "Is it a comedy?"

Rick shook his head. "That's just what people look like there, Morty. You're about to see so much than what was on that little world you were stuck in up until now. This is only the beginning."

Morty smiled and watched as Rick continued turning the channels, stopping on the ones he thought the boy would think were funny or the most absurd. Rick had started this endeavor hoping to gain an accomplice to help him on his missions, but he'd gotten so much more instead - so much that it was almost scary how grateful he felt for the company of a kid he didn't even know existed at the beginning of this week.

"They're like humans with beaks!" Morty gasped and pointed excitedly at the screen. "Oh my god, Rick! And the birds have human noses!"

Rick smiled and put his arm around Morty's shoulders. He was really going to enjoy introducing his grandson to everything the boy never knew existed. From here on out, neither of them was going to be on his own anymore. They each had a family now, and no matter how small a family, it was all either of them needed.

xxxxxx

The End.


End file.
